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ROSA VON TANNENBURG, 


A TALE ; 


TB/NSL/TED FBOM THE 


GERMjlN OF SCHMID, 


' -BY 



Lucie Agnes Archer. 


NEW 

John Scott, 

15 Spruce 'St. 

1881. 





'«I 


. ■i T i 


Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1881, by 
LUCIE AGNES ARCHER, 

in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. O. 


Rosk Printino Company, Steam Priutei-s, 15 i'rahkfort St., N. Y. 


PREFATORY NOTE, 


Among the numberless didactic stories for the young, inculcating the 
lesson that careful religious training in youth best secures true happiness and 
usefulness in after-life, Rosa Von Tannenbukg has long held its own in the 
affections of God fearing Germans, The stoiy in its homely style and 
uncompromising directness of fervid belief, belongs, both from a literary and 
religious point of view, to an age less exacting and less questioning than our 
own. But although it lays no claim to marked brilliancy of style or dramatic 
power, its earnestness and simplicity cannot fail to strongly impress the 
plastic minds for which it is designed, and parents, keenly ahve to the import- 
ance of healthful moral reading for their children, wiU doubtless accord a 
welcome to Miss Archer's graceful translation of a story which has long been 
popular in the Fatherland. 


W. GORDON McCABE. 


FROM THE GERMAN OF SCHMID. 


TRANSLATED BY LUCIE AGNES ARCHER. 


CHAPTEK I 

On the southern frontier of Suabia, in that 
picturesque region of blooming valleys and wooded 
heights, behind which in dazzling white splendor 
the snowy mountains of Switzerland rear their lofty 
heads, stood, in ancient time, uj)on the summit of 
a high rock overgrown with fir, the majestic castle 
of Tannenburg. Centuries after it was destroyed, 
the fallen towers and moss-grown walls were objects 
of mournful interest to the traveler, and when he viewed 
them reddened by evening’s sun-set hues, or whitened 
by the cold grey gleam of the moon, a wierd melan- 
choly filled his heart and involuntarily blessing the noble 
men who, in former times lived here and had made the 


6 


EOSA VON TANNENBUEG. 


whole country, far around, prosperous and happy ; he 
passed on staff in hand, “musing on worlds beyond the 
grave,” and oppressed with the solemn thought of the 
transitoriness of all earthly things. 

In the castle had formerly lived Baron Edelbert 
with his wife Mathilde, in the most blissful concord. 
Edelbert was a very brave knight ; and though his 
vocation — that of wielding sword and lance — was harsh, 
his nature was none the less mild and gentle ; and 
under the iron coat of mail throbbed a heart, warm, and 
full of humanity. He was ah extremely devout man, an 
upright German nobleman, and a good ruler to his sub- 
jects. The Duke of Sriabia honored him as his friend, 
and the Emperor himself had distinguished him 
very signally above all other Knights. Mathilde, 
Edelbert’s wife, was adjudged the most excellent 
lady far and near on account of her intelligence and 
her generosity towards the poor, to which she added 
the further attraction of being eminently beautiful. 
Baron Edelbert was, in those unrestful, warlike 
times, seldom at his castle, having to accompany the 
Duke in his campaigns, and was often absent for 
years, in the field. Mathilde found her sweetest joy, 
dm'ing the absence of her husband, in the com- 
panionship of her only child, a tender maiden, 
called Bosa ; who in rare gifts of mind and beauty 
of person resembled her mother. To rear this 
promising child aright was the greatest concern of 
this loving mother. Her method of education was 
very simple but excellent. Being herself sincerely 
pious and good, it was a matter of no difficulty to 


EOSA VON TANNENBURG. 


7 


her to instil the same principles in her child. 
The godly mother taught her daughter above ^ 
to know God ; and sought to implant a truly 
childlike love for the Father in Heaven in her 
tender heart. The noble woman intensely appreciated 
the glorious works of God, and was therefoie en- 
abled to contemplate them with great devotion, and 
from the depth of her heart to rejoice in them. 
From the high bow window of her customary 
sitting-room, by which she spent many hours of 
the day with her work, there was a magnficent 
prospect. Heaven and earth contemplated from this 
eminence, presented an indescribably beautiful, soul- 
inspiring view ; and gave the good mother manifold 
opportunities to call her daughter’s attention to the 
wisdom, goodness, and almighty power of God iq 
His works. 

As for example, once, on a glorious summer 
morning, Mathilde awakened the little Rosa very 
early, “O, just come, Rosa,” called she, “and see 
how beautiful the sun rises this morning. Look, 
said she,” opening the window, “how brilliantly the 
heavens are illumined just there in the east. 
See the tender cloudlets’ crimson glow ; the far 
snowy mountains just above the dark green w^oods 
resemble mountains of gold. See, now, now, the 
sun rises ! O, what a wondrous God, who has created 
this and all upon which His beams shine. Tlie 
church-tow'er over there stands out as if gilded, from 
its background of fruit trees in which nearly the 
whole village lies hidden. 


8 


EOSA VON TANNENBUEG. 


“The cheerful country people go to their work 
freshly invigorated, while the herdsma^i drives the joy- 
ous lowing cattle to the deep valley below : on yonder 
mountain graze the sheep, followed by careful shep- 
herds, and the mowers in the meadow, are weild- 
ing their glittering scythes. The fields of grain 
are already yellow, and soon they will thrust in 
the sickle. Everywhere we behold the richest bless- 
ings of God. 

“ O, what a loving Father is He who, looking down 
upon all mankind with equal love, be they in castle or 
in cottage, bestows upon them this beautiful earth so 
rich with His gifts ; and wishes to have them all one 
day live with Himself in Heaven ! O, who would not re- 
joice in such a kind, loving Father ! ” Such words, com- 
ing from the heart, naturally found their way at once to 
the heart of the little Rosa. She involuntarily folded 
her little hands and said, “ O, Thou good, dear God ! 
how I thank Thee that Thou hast made all so beau- 
tiful ! ” In like manner Mathilde taught her daughter 
how everything we see in Heaven or upon earth ; from 
the sun to the dew-drop, teaches us the goodness 
and loving kindness of God. The changing sea- 
sons, with their manifold beauties and gifts, afforded 
her ever renewed opportunities to this end. Rosa 
learned to lift her thoughts up from the works of God 
to God himself. She could rejoice with her whole 
heart at sight of fruit or flower, and, full of child- 
like love, thank Him for his beneflts. The pious 
mother was perfectly conversant with the Scriptures' 
and as she spun or embroidered, she would relat 


ÜOSA VON TANNENBUKQ. 


9 


to lier listening daughter for hours such scenes as 
were adapted to her tender years. Rosa was en- 
tranced, unspeakably delighted with Paradise, the 
tents of the Patriarchs, the wilderness of the Isra- 
elites, the “land that flowed with milk and honey.” 
She learned from this how God revealed Himself 
unto man as the Most Holy, who äelights only in 
good, hates evil, and wishes all mankind to be like- 
wise pure and holy. In the wicked men shown us in 
the Scriptures she recognized fearful examples of 
vice ; but in the good, beautiful types of every 
amiable virtue. Rosa loved best to hear of Jesus 
Christ ; she rejoiced with the shepherds and angels 
over the Holy Child in the manger, at Bethlehem, 
and offered, with the wise men of the East, to 
the newly-born King whose star shone in the 
Heavens, the most child-like feelings of adoration 
and thanks, which were costlier than gold and 
frankincense. She saw the beautiful. Heavenly Child 
in the home at Nazareth ; how He was subject 
unto the blessed mother and the pious foster 
father ; how He prayed and how He worked in 
meek submission to God and men, as He grew 
older ; and she made sincere resolutions to be also 
obedient to her parents and to strive daily to progress 
in all good. She accompanied, in thought, the Divine 
Teacher upon His journeys, through the Holy Land ; 
stood in spirit in the minds of His hearers on the 
Mount, or by the sea, or in the temple ; listened to 
Him ever full of devotion and attention ; and promised 
her mother, sacredly, to follow faithfully such 


10 


EOSA VON TANNBNBUEG. 


blessed teachings. The deepest joy filled her heart 
as she heard how He, the divine children’s friend, 
mercifully called the little ones unto Him and 
blessed them ; how He said . unto the weeping 
parents of the dead maiden, “The child only 
sleepeth ! ” and awakened her ; and how he said to 
the yoimg man* upon the bier, “Ai'ise,” and led 
him again, living, to the weeping mother — she re- 
solved to be alwaj's a good child that should 
deserve His blessing ; to love Him and tmst Him 
who, dries all tears, helps in every need, and 
even takes away all fear of death, and can give 
eternal life ; and when at last, the mother told of 
the suffering that He, the guiltless One, took upon 
Himself for the love He bore mankind, and how, 
when bleeding upon the cross with dying utter- 
ance, He still prayed to His Father in Heaven to 
forgive His murderers : and through suffering and 
death entered into Glory — the great teai's flowed 
down Eosa’s tender cheeks. She resolved in her 
heart to consecrate her whole life to Him who 
died for her. Thus did the Christian mother teach 
her daughter to know and love God and the 
Divine Eedeenier. As the mother instilled love to 
God in the heart of her daughter, she wished 
also to implant in her love to all mankind, especi- 
ally to her parents. The warm mother - love 
natui’ally won in return the love of her daughter. 
Equally, did Eosa love her father, although he was 
rarely at home — because her mother always spoke 
of him with tenderest affection. When the mother 


KOSA VON TAITNENBUEG. 


11 


would say, “ Behave so that I will have nothing hut 
good to tell of thee to the dear father when he 
comes ” it was ever the strongest incentive to 
Bosa, to do good ; and when the father really came 
home, Bosa, as well as her mother, endeavored to 
give him only pleasure. For instance, the father 
was very fond of the peaches which grew upon a 
certain tree beside the castle wall. The mother 
once brought the first fruit, divided into three equal 
parts, for the father, herself, and Bosa ; but said 
at the same time, “I will give mine to father.” 
Bosa said quickly, “I will do the same with 
mine.” Not for the world would she have eaten 
one of them. With joyous haste she put all the 
peaches m a neat little basket, so that the pretty 
red should fall temptingly upon the eye, and 
brought them to her father. Mathilde was accus- 
tomed to help the truly needy with money or 
provisions. Many of the gifts she allowed her 
daughter to distribute, in order that she might 
learn to know by experience, the blessedness of 
giving. She knew how to stimulate Bosa’s sym- 
pathy for the strangers’ necessity, and to bring 
her to the point of sacrificing her own means for 
the welfare of others. Once, on her birthday, 
Bosa received a gold piece from her father, who 
said she might spend it for any article of dress 
she most desired. She asked her mother many 
questions as to what prettiest could be purchased 
for this money ; the mother mentioned many things, 
but the happy Bosa could not at all decide what 


12 


BOSA VON TANNENBUEG. 


she should choose. Just then a poor widow was 
announced whose only cow had died with a pre- 
vailing disorder. The mother called the widow in, 
listened to her story and said, kindly ; “I have 
already given money to very many who have 
had the same misfortune, I will hardly be able 
to give you so much as you desire, for I must 
keep a little for daily expenses.” She then went 
and brought some money, counted it out upon the 
table. “I can not conveniently give more,” and 
handing it to her said, “ if you had only one more 
gold florin you could buy a good cow.” Then Eosa 
ran hurriedly, brought her gold piece and laid it 
down with the money counted out upon the table. 
“I have clothes enough already,” said she. “The 
poor widow has far greater need of a cow than I of a 
new dress.” The poor woman wept for joy, and begged 
to kiss Eosa’s hand. \Yhen she was gone the mother 
embraced her daughter and said, “Thou hast done 
well, Eosa ; this, thy practical sympathy, is worth 
more than ten thousand gold pieces, and all the dress 
and all the splendor in the world.” 

The mother accustomed Eosa from her tender 
childhood to a cheerful obedience. “For,” said 
the wise mother, “ self-will is the mightiest 
hindi’ance to good — a child must flrst learn to give 
up its will to the will of its parents, then it becomes 
so much the more easy for him to be able to hum- 
ble himself to the will of God. For if he does 
not obey the parents whom ho sees, how can he 
obey God whom he does not see? The violent 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


13 


inclinations in the heart of the child must be 
moderated, the weeds must be rooted out so that 
the lovelier flowers of noble impulses can flourish.” 
That which she could not allow, the mother 
promptly and positively refused. Little Rosa at 
first, sought to obtain by begging and tears, like 
all children, many thiugs which she ardently de- 
sired ; but she soon learned that a “No” from her 
mother meant as much as a thousand words ; she 
saw, at once, that all beggiug and crying would 
be in vain. The mother daily found little occasions 
to exercise her in obedience and in overcoming 
sinful inclinations. What the mother commanded 
must at once be done ; all other employments and 
all play must quickly be laid aside. No flowers in 
the garden must be plucked, no fruit culled without 
her mother’s permission. But Mathilde took no 
pleasure in too many prohibitions and commands ; 
she hated that endless, often very wearisome mast- 
ering and setting to rights of children, the result 
of which is to confuse, rather than have the de- 
sired effect. “There are only a few commands 
necessary,” said she, “these, however, must be 
strictly followed. The dear Lord gave only ten 
commandments to make men good and hap- 
py, and were these always kept, man would 
spare himself ten thousand others.” The wise 
mother soon found also that in order to arouse 
children to obedience and to deter them from 
disobedience, rewards and punishments were neces- 
sary. “The good God,” said she, “does the same 


14 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBO. 


with US large children.” It was a pleasure to the 
mother to share with her beloved Eosa the finest 
fruits of the garden. But Kosa must deserve them. 
The mother said, for instance, “If thou canst say 
the verses that I give thee, by heart, without a 
mistake thou shalt Jiave these fine cherries.” Or 
she would say another time: “When thou hast 
finished correctly the knitting I gave thee, thou 
shalt have those grapes.” Bosa soon finished the 
tasks and her joy was greater than if she had re- 
ceived ihe fruit without meriting it. When 
Kosa made a mistake she was not allowed to go 
with her into the garden. This was punishment 
enough, and soon even this was no longer neces- 
sary. When the mother said, with serious look, 
“I would not have believed that of thee — don’t 
grieve me.” Rosa was unhappy and restless until her 
beloved mother smiled again. 

This excellent mother w;ho w’^as never seen idle, 
thought it very important that her daughter should 
always be occupied. When she sat at her work, 
little Kosa must also have something to do. “The 
assiduous industry of a child is truly of little use 
in the management of a house,” said she, as she 
looked with approbation at Rosa; “but it is of 
great advantage to the child.” “It preserves it 
from weariness and from ill humor, and accustoms 
it early, to a useful life.” Rosa really learned 
very early to spin neatly, and soon knew how to 
sew quite skillfully. She made for herself, under 
the direction of her mother, a dress out of the 


KOSA VON TANNENBUKG. 


15 


linen slie spnn herself, and she felt the most un- 
allo3"ed happiness in it. The costly stuff which 
her father hro\ight her on one occasion, from one 
of his expeditions, did not give her half the pleas- 
ure. Mathilde, as was the custom in those times, 
attended to the bright, clean kitchen herself ; and 
here also she had alwaj^s known how to find some 
little thing for Eosa to do, from her tender child- 
hood up — if it were nothing more than to shell 
peas, or string beans. But the most pleasant em- 
ployment the mother found was in the beautifully 
laid out castle garden, particularly as the exercise 
in the fresh air proved very beneficial to her health. 
Soon Rosa, also, showed a fondness for gardening. 
The mother assigned her a particular spot, and 
had a little rake made for her, also a dainty water- 
ing pot, and other garden implements. There was 
now alwa^^s something for Rosa to do, from the 
earliest Sprmg da^^s when the sweet red peach 
blossoms came forth, until in Autumn, when the 
leaves fell. With the most jo^fful dilligence she 
sowed seed, set out, watered, and weeded the most 
useful 3^oung plants. She heaped up the earth 
around the 3"oung cabbages, and bound to stakes 
the running tendrils of the pea vines. When the 
first garden peas came on the table which Rosa 
had raised and cooked, she felt no little pride, and 
thought no dish had ever tasted so well. “That is 
the sweet fruit of industry,” said her mother. “Thus 
God reAvards labor, in small things and in great. 
Industr}" has transformed the entire region sur- 


16 


EOSA VON TANNENBTJEG. 


rounding us, from a wilderness to a rich garden.*^ 
While her mother was ever careful to keep her 
little Rosa always employed — and in order that she 
should not become weary with the monotony, very 
wisely varied her employments — she nevertheless did 
not allow her to lack for diversion. Two ' or three 
times a week several poor, but well behaved little 
gilds of Rosa’s age, were allowed to visit her, among 
the number was one named Agnes, who was distin- 
guished for kind-heartedness. Rosa always enter- 
tained her little friends first, then would spin a short 
time, and then they would have a game in the 
sitting-room or in the garden. The mother kept 
the chüdi’en ever under her eye, though of course 
without their knowledge, and thus heard all that 
they said to each other. She invented games for 
them and knew herself how to infuse a spiidt of 
animation into them. In this, and other similar ways, 
she kept her daughter ever joyous and happy, for 
she held this to be an essential quality in good 
trainmg. Rosa was always serenely haj)iiy, • and there- 
fore lent herself the more gladly to any employment 
and to all good. Still more particular was this wise 
mother that budding vanity and the love of dress, 
should not spoil Rosa’s nature. 

One day when Rosa was a little older the Duke 
came to Tannenburg on a visit- to his friend Edeb 
bert. Several knights and ladies from the suis 
rounding country were in\fited, and Rosa had to appear 
in a dress becoming her rank. She was attired 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


17 


in silk and decked witli precious stones. Tlie 
stranger lords and ladies, bestowed lavisk praise 
upon the beauty and attire of the young maiden, 
and said many flattering thmgs to her, which Kosa 
received not unwillingly. When the distinguished 
guests had gone, her mother said to Rosa, “The 
words which these lords and ladies said to thee 
have troubled me sorely ! They knew nothing in 
thee to praise save these glittering spangles, which 
are only fastened on thee, and which thou must 
again take off! To the silk-weaver and the lapidary, 
belong their enconiums, not to thee. They admired 
thy beauty, but the praise of that was not due to 
thee, and it will soon fade, and thou must one day 
crumble into dust. Oh, my dear, if there were 
nothing else in thee worthy, I would, indeed, be a 
very unhappy mother. Ah, my dear, good Rosa, 
strive after those qualities which lead thee truly to 
honor.” 

The mother sadly laid her ornaments in the 
elegant little casket. “Ah,” said she, “what are 
these jewels compared with a noble heart? These 
things can not make us happy. When they one 
day shall carry me to my grave, this casket remains 
here. Noble deeds and intentions are alone the 
jewels, which, in yonder world, have a value.” Her 
own beautiful example did inflnitely more towards 
bringing Rosa up in the right way, than anything 
Mathilde could say. The entire life of the mother 
was, as it were, a clear, stainless mirror, in which 


18 


ROSA VON TANNENBURO. 


the daughter might continually see plainly before 
her eyes how to act and what she should be- 
come. The mother was so modest, so refined, 
that her unalterable, gentle womanliness, was a 
silent panegyi-ic upon these virtues. She never 
spoke in vain-glorious terms of herself, she let none 
be sensible of her superiority of rank, riches and 
intelligence. Her mild, gentle face, was never dis- 
figured by anger. Never did she speak evil of 
others. Never from her mouth came censorious or 
censurable words. Her holy life, and love to her 
fellow creatures, above all, made such an impression 
upon the heart of her daughter, that never in after 
years was it obliterated. 

In the Burg was an ancient chapel with 
stained windows, before whose altar Mathilde 
often knelt with a reverence, a sincerity so im- 
feigned, that to one who saw her she seemed 
perfectly lost in God, and her coimtenance as 
if glorified. The praying mother was a celestial 
vision for Eosa, and caused her also to lift up her heart 
to Heaven. She not only saw it but felt deeply 
in her heart this truth: “The noblest and most 
blessed of all emotions is true devotion.’* A whole 
book could not have convinced her of it so clearljr 
and so intuitively. 

Mathilde interested herself very actively in the 
sick, the suffering, and the oppressed of all kinds. 
On one occasion there was in the village, at the 
foot of the mountain, a poor working woman, the 


BOSA VON TANNENBURG. 


19 


mother of seven small children, who was very dan- 
gerously ill, and the noble lady thought it not be- 
neath her dignity to come down from her castle 
to visit the poor sick one beneath the humble 
straw thatch ; to acquaint herself with the circum- 
stances ; to arrange all that was necessary, and, in 
order to encourage her to take medicine, even ad- 
ministered it herself. She continued the visit 
daily, and Rosa had to accompany her that 
she might early become acquainted with the suffer- 
ing of humanity, and learn that by lightening it 
for others, her own burdens were light in com- 
parison. When Mathilde came one day to the humble 
home and announced that the invalid was now 
out of danger, the whole family burst into joyful 
tears, and the father, in unutterable emotion, sank 
weeping upon his knees, and the children kissed 
the hand and the dress of their benefactress. At 
sight of this Rosa was so moved that she herself 
wept with them ; deemed herself happy to have 
such a good mother, and in her heart solemnly 
promised God to tread in her footsteps. So holy 
a rearing could not remain without good fruit. 
Rosa became, indeed, the image of maidenly virtue. 
She had the purest love for God, for her parents ; 
for all mankind. Her modesty, her refinement, her 
gentle nature, her pious, pure spirit, ennobled and 
beautified her countenance; simple and spotless as 
her spirit, was the dress she wore consisting of linen ; 
spim and bleached by herself ; a few blue Korn blu- 
men, or rose buds on the dazzling white fabric con- 


20 


ROSA VON TANNENBURO. 


stituted her favorite adornment. But her innocent, 
kindly eyes, were of a lovelier blue than the flowers, 
and the hue of innocency upon her blooming cheeks, 
shamed the red of the bursting rose-buds. All who saw 
her said : “Kosa von Tannenburg is the most beautiful 
maiden of all Suabia ; but her virtues render her 
even more lovable than her beauty.” 



BOSA VON TANNENBURG. 


21 


CHAPTEE n. 

Alas ! that the good Rosa should be deprived 
of such an unspeakable blessing* as this excellent 
mother ! She was about fourteen years old when 
her mother was taken suddenly ill. She was aware 
of the danger, and did not conceal it from her 
daughter. Knight Edelbert had gone to the field : 
Mathilde said, therefore, to her daughter, “Dearest 
Rosa, send immediately a messenger on horseback 
for your father. I would love to see him once 
more in this world ; then send for the pious Ab- 
bot Norbert; he baptized me^ consecrated me 
to God when I first entered this life, and 
he will not refuse to lend me his assistance 
as I leave it ; to lead me gently over to yonder 
better life, over to my Creator and my Saviour 1 
It were indeed too late,” continued she, “ if I were 
just now for the first time preparing for death. The 
whole earthly life should truly be one of preparation 
for that in Heaven. To this end are we in the world. 
Meanwhile, in this solemn moment, there is nothing 
left to do but to re-dedicate myself to God, to 
make my peace with Him, even as regards the 
most venial of sins, and to be united to Him 
according to the ordinances of the Church.” The 
pious Abbot, a tenderly sympathetic, friendly old man, 
appeared. Mathilde spoke with him awhile alone after 
she had received from his hand the bread of life. The 


22 


BOS A VON TANNENBUBO. 


flame of her devotion communicated itself to the 
heart of her sorrowful child, and softened her inex- 
pressible grief. The venerable Abbot in praying 
for the sick one, spoke with such power and 
certainty of the eternal life, that Rosa wished from 
her inmost heart to die then and there with her 
mother. She remained, full of devotion, love and 
sympathy, like a ministering angel, ever by the 
sick-bed of her mother. Baron Edelbert arrived 
several days later, and Rosa hurried to meet him, 
kissing him, and weeping bitterly as she threw herself 
in his arms below on the winding stone steps. 
Deeply troubled, the Knight approached the sick- 
bed. He was terrified to find his tenderly beloved 
wife so pale and changed, but his fright gave place, 
finally, to tears. Rosa stood sobbing on the other 
side of the bed. The dying woman, smiling with 
imutterable tenderness, gave one hand to her dear 
husband, the other she reached to her daughter. 
“ Dearest Edelbert ! dearest Rosa ! ” said she, with 
a weak voice ; “ my hour has come. I will no 
more see the rising sim. But do not weep ; I will 
be better up there in the house of our Heavenly 
Father, where the many mansions are. May you 
be blessed. I only go now into another dwelling-place. 
I am not, therefore, lost to you. We will see each 
other again soon, never more to part.” She was silent ; 
weakness prevented her speaking further. “ Dear Edel- 
bert,” said she after a little while, “I have never 
given thee a portrait of myself. But our beloved 
daughter, my living image, is to thee a better 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


23 


reminder of me, yes, the best that I can leave 
thee. To thee I commit her now, in my last 
moments, as in the presence of God! I endeav- 
ored to bring her up pure and Christlike ; do 
thou finish the work ; correct wherein I have 
■erred ; give to her all the love which thou hast 
shown me, and for which I, now, dying, thank 

thee. And thou, dearest Rosa,” she continued, 
“ thou hast given me much joy ; thou hast never 
grieved me ; thou wert to me a good daughter. 
This testimony must I give to thee now in the hour of 
my death. O, remain pure, spotless, true, and love 
God. Keep close to our Divine Redeemer 
follow his teachings. Never do aught that 

is wicked. Honor and love thy good father. Ah, 
he is exposed to so many dangers in war 1 If 
lie should ever be brought home wounded, take 
my place by his side. Be to him in the days of 
his old age a loving nurse, since I can not be 
with him, be thou a good daughter to him, fare- 
well! O God,” said she now, with an imploring 

look to Heaven, “ deliver her from evil and keep 
her pure ! Hear my last präyer, the ardent 
supplication of a mother’s heart, now breaking, 
and let me again see her in Heaven !” Father 
and daughter were overwhelmed with grief. The 
holy dying one joined the hands of her husband 
and daughter, and held them between her own 
cold hands. “We three,” said she, “were ever one 
heart and one spirit in this world, and by the 
help of God we will be also in the next. Death can 


24 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


not sever our love. We will, in Heaven, eternally 
live and eternally love. ” She looked at her hus- 
band and her daughter with angelic serenity. In 
her countenance shone already the radiance of her 
near transfiguration. “God,” said she, “vouchsafes 
me a great comfort and great joy in these last 
moments. To Him be praise ! O, my Kosa, how 
I rejoice that in me you can see with what com- 
fort and blessedness those can die who believe in 
God, in Christ, and in the Everlasting Life ! 
Christ leaves us not comfortless in our hour of need ; 
I have no fear of death ; I am already blessed in 
the hope of Eternal Life.” She now fixed her 

gaze on a beautiful painting of the dying Re- 

deemer, that hung just opposite her on the walk 
and folding her hands, said again with slow, 
almost inaudible voice, “As thou, my Saviour, didst 
commend Thy spirit into the hands of Th}" 

Father, so commend I my spirit into Thy hands.” 
She was silent, a death-like hue spread over her 
countenance, and with one last lingering glance 
she expired. Rosa was speechless with an- 

guish. Edelbert said, sobbing : “ She lived and 
died a saint ; and has now conquered ! May 
God take us so gently to Himself and bring us 
together again up there ! ” The grief of Edel- 
bert and the desolate Rosa during this night, 
the following day and at the burial was indescrib- 
able. The whole country, far and wide, moumed 
with them. In every house, every cottage of her 
vassals there was grief, as though an ovm mother 


KOSA VON TANNENEUEG. 


25 


had died. The venerable Abbot in performing 
the last solemn rites endeavored to speak to the 
countless multitudes of people who gathered at the 
burial, but the universal sobbing soon became so loud, 
that the voice of the old man was no longer distinguish- 
able. He himself burst into tears. Motioning them 
to be still, he said only these words ; “ Where tears 
speak so loudly, I must perforce be silent ! 
Let us so live, that at our grave as many tears 
may flow ! Richly sow as did the glorified one — 
then will we there also richly reap.” 



26 


BOSA VON TANNENBUEO 


CHAPTEK m 

Baron Edelbert went again to the battle-field ; 
but one day towards the latter part of Autumn he 
came back to his castle severely wounded in the 
right arm. Kosa was much distressed and felt the 
tenderest sympathy for her father, never moving from 
his bedside. She prepared and brought all of his 
food, she helped to dress the wound, and when at 
last his arm got better, and Edelbert sat by the fire- 
side, lowspirited, because he could not do his duty 
as knight in assisting the Duke, Eosa alone knew how 
to cheer him. She sat by him with her embroi- 
dery, or her spinning-wheel, she talked of her sainted 
mother and related many of her wise words, and 
noble deeds which were not previously known to the 
father. She asked about this and that circumstance 
in the history of his knightly exploits, persuading 
him to have the silver goblet refilled, if only for the 
love of her grandfather from whom he had received 
it. The knight being thus unconsciously beguiled 
into conversation found his sadness softened, and 
many hours of the gloomy winter passed as quickly 
as so many minutes to her. In the early spring there 
came to Edelbert’s castle a very noble knight, and 
summoned him to rejoin the Duke in the field of 
battle. Edelbert to his deep sorrow felt that his 
arm was yet too weak to wield sword and lance. 
He, however, quickly called together his vassals about 


ROSA VON TANNENBUBG, 


27 


the castle to send them to the help of the Duke 
and entertained them three days. On the morning 
of the fourth, which was appointed for their depart- 
nre, he gathered them together in the large “ Ritter 
JSaal of the castle and in knightly attire decorated 
with a golden chain, though without armor, whose 
hrazen plates his wounded arm was not yet able 
to bear, he stepped into their midst, committed 
them solemnly to the leadership of the stranger 
knight and encouraged them to bravery and good 
military discipline. “ Be brave as a lion against 
the enemy ; to the peaceful citizen be as gentle as a 
lamb,” said he in conclusion. 

With tearful eyes he looked after the train, 
from the window of the castle until it vanished in 
the nearest wood. In vain he strove throughout 
the whole day to become cheerful ; his quiet castle 
appeared to him lonely and deserted after the de- 
parture of his faithful attendants. Sadly he sat 
down by the fireside after supper. The evening 
was cold and gloomy. A fearful storm, howled 
around the ramparts of the castle, rain beat upon 
the windows of the room until they rattled. 

Rosa put more wood upon the fire, brought her 
father his evening draught in the silver goblet, sat 
down by him, and said : “ Dear Father, do tell me 
the history of the worthy charcoal bum er who came 
to see you this afternoon. I know something of it. 
He lived once at our castle, and his little Agnes 


Hall of the Knights. 


28 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 

was the playmate of my childhood. But I would 
love to hear' just one time the whole history.” 

“The history of my brave Burkhard!” cried the 
knight, “ Oh 1 right gladly. The good man came to 
see me to-day, truly not without reason. He knew 
well how it would weigh upon my spirit to have to 
remain behind, for he has experienced the same 
thing. He was once indeed a brave warrior, and 
accompanied me upon my expeditions. However, 
before I can relate anything of the brave Burkhard, 
I must first say something of Knight Kunerich Von 
Fitchtenburg. The splendid castle, Fichtenburg, is 
not, of course, unknown to you. We can see from 
the windows of our hall, its towers in the far dis- 
tance standing out against the dark pine forest, 
but the knight himself you have never seen, for 
he was always very hostile to me and has never 
visited me. His hatred toward me was excited 
very early, whilst we were both pages at the court 
of the Duke in our youth. Kunerich was,' even when 
a boy, very self-willed, irritable and vain-glorious, 
and, for this reason, not much beloved by the Duke ; 
He, therefore, hated and envied me because I was 
preferred before him. When we were both armed 
and had to show our skill in wielding sword and 
spear openly for the first time in a tournament 
which the Duke gave to the young nobility, I 
received the first prize, a sword with a golden 
hilt, which your sainted mother, who was th e 
the most modest and beautiful maiden of the Duke’s 
court, presented to me upon a purple cushion in 


EOSA VON TANNENBUEG. 


29 


the presence of the Suabian nobility. Kunerich, 
on the contrary, received the last prize, a pair of 
silver spurs. From this time on he hated me even 
more, and could no longer look me straight in the 
face. His hatred, however, culminated when the 
Emperor, as you know, after the great battle, 
hung this golden badge of honor here ; but to 
Knight Kunerich — through whose inconsiderateness 
and impetuosity the battle was well nigh lost, he 
gave a severe reprimand- Well, the gallant Burk- 
hard had — as my vassal and companion in arms — 
a little estate that lay on the borders of my ter- 
ritory, and which encroached upon Kunerich’s woods, 
but Knight Kunerich was a bad neighbor to my good 
Burkhard. He kept in his domain a quantity 
of game. The deer came frequently over the 
boundary and devastated good Burkhard’s fields ; the 
wild hogs rooted up his pretty meadows. I gave 
the worthy man permission to shoot them down 
mthout more ado, and bring them to me, as all 
wdld game killed upon my soil, belongs by right 
to me. 

Well, one evening I rode home from a hunt 
with my people. The sun was already down, and 
the soft, rosy sunset clouds sent their kindly 
light through the fir trees. Suddenly the wife of the 
honest Burkhard appeared with streaming hair, 
crying loudly to me. She fell upon her knees, 
and wringing her hands implored my help ; she 
had brought her little Agnes ; the child knelt by 
her mother, and lifted up her little hands trem- 


80 


KOSA VON TANNENBURÖ. 


bling and crying. The sight pierced my heart. 
I dismounted and bade her tell me what had 
happened. The story was this : my good Burkhard, 
his wife, G-ertraud, and little Agnes were taking 
their evening meal near the door of their house not 
thinking of trouble — when, suddenly Knight Kime- 
rich surprised them, accompanied by many armed 
attendants mounted and afoot The servants seized 
the good Burkhard, tied his hands behind his 
back, threw him into a cart, and drove off This 
Knight Kimerich did, because Burkhard had recently 
killed a deer on the borders of his domain, but 
upon our ground and had delivered it at Tannenburg, 
The angered Kimerich had sworn that he would let 
the wicked poacher, as he called the honorable 
Burkhard, languish in the fearful dungeon of Fich- 
tenburg among frogs and snakes. ‘ He shall be 
free ’ said I to the woman, ‘ if I have to de- 
stroy the whole nest of robbers. Be comforted, 
and go, meantime, with your child to the castle.' 
I hastened quickly with my servants along the road 
to wrest, if possible, Kuner^ch’s victim from him 
ere he could reach his castle. I sent out some 
mounted men as scouts, appointed a place where 
we should all come together again, and rode in a 
brisk trot to Fichtenburg. The servants soon 
brought me news : Kimerich was carousing with his 
people at the mill down in the forest. The cart, 
in which was poor Burkhard, stood before the door. 
I found that I and my people already had a good 
start of these outlaws on the route to Kunerich’s castle. 


KOSA VON TANNENBUBG. 


31 


We stopped, therefore, at a convenient place in the 
woods, by which the company must pass. They 
finally came, suspecting nothing, in good spirits and 
making a great noise. Suddenly, like a flash of 
lightning from a clear sky we fell upon the robbers. 
The full moon, which had just arisen, afforded us* 
sufficient light to do our work. As Kunerich was not 
expecting this attack, and, furthermore, had drunk 
too much, he fought very badly, and after a short 
resistance, he and his people took to flight. I 
could easily have captured him, but took pity on 
him and let him escape. ‘Thank God, none of us 
were killed in the affray, the groimd was covered 
with the weapons only of the enemy.’ We 
unbound the man in the cart, loaded it instead 

with the captured weapons, gave him a horse 
whose rider had been thrown, in the melee, and 
journeyed jojffully home. The joy his wife and 

little daughter felt as we came riding up to the 

castle-door, and when they saw Burkhard by my 

side, cannot possibly be described ! And yet my joy 
was still greater. Oh, it is a blessed feeling to have 
rescued others from distress. I assigned the good 
people a little place in our castle grounds, where 
they would be safe from Kunerich’s vengeance. 
Later, Burkhard was wounded in battle and could 
no longer do war service. Meanwhile he was not 
disabled from all work, and was unwilling to 
eat his bread in idleness. He discovered in 
the wild regions of the forest a little secluded 
valley where he wished to settle, I had a pretty 


32 ROSA VON TANNENBUKG. 

house built there for him. He broke up an arable 
piece of ground for his field, which gives him 
bread, near by he carries on charcoal-burning with 
my permission. 

The spot where he lived, was scarcely ever 
Vsited by any one, and soot and coal-dust made 
his otherwise blooming face almost unrecogniza- 
ble. So he believed himself safe enough from 
Kunerich’s plots and indeed since that time has 
not been in the least disturbed.” To this history 
Baron Edelbert added many examples of Burk- 
. hard’s bravery and faithfulness, so that the naiTa- 
tion lasted till late into the night. Rosa had 
listened to him so attentively, that her father’s 
goblet had long stood empty, and she had not 
even taken care to put fresh wood on the 
fire. Suddenly there arose a fearful disturbance 
in the castle. The arched hall resounded with 
the clash of weapons and cries of contending men. 
Many footsteps neared the sitting-room in which 
Edelbert and his daughter sat. The knight sprang 
up and glanced around for his weapons, whilst Rosa 
hastily bolted the door. But, with a frightful blow 
the door w^as forced open, and a man in armor ac- 
companied by several armed men entered. “ Now 
Edelbert,” said he with flashing eyes and thun- 
dering voice, “ the hour of vengeance has come ! I 
am Kunerich, whom you * have so often opi^osed. 
Now shall you atone to me for it all.” Then turn- 
ing to his soldiers, he cried, “ Clap him in 
chains and guard him till we go, for the awful 


EOSA VOX TANNENBLKG. 


33 


dungeon of Fichtenbiu'g, shall henceforth be his 
dwelluig. This castle is now mine. What armor 
and weapons, apparel and jewels I maj find here 
suitable for my rank, I will now select. You 
may then as a reward for your bravery, plunder 
the whole castle, while I refresh myself with a 
fiagon of old wine. Be quick ; in three hours 
we depart.” Eosa threw herself at the feet of 
the cruel knight and implored mercy for her 
father. The tyrant pushed her from him, and 
with proud step withdrew without further notic- 
ing her. Edelbert was now chained and two 

soldiers kept watch before the door. Kime- 
rich had deemed the moment when Edelbert could 
not use his valiant right arm the most favorable 
to allow his buiming revenge to bui’st forth in 
bright flames. He had waited too until Edel- 
bert’s bravest warriors had gone to the field with 
the Duke, and so left him unprotected. Among 
Edelbert’s few retainers who served to garrison the 
citadel, one soldier was a coward and of little 
use, a man whom Edelbert had kept in his ser- 
vice purely thi'ough compassion. This man, bribed 
by Kimerich, had opened at night a secret postern 
hidden by jagged rocks and thom-bushes, through 
wEich an underground passage led into the castle. 
The other soldiers had seen the in-coming enemy 
too late, and, despite all resistance, in a few mo- 
ments were overpowered and thrown to the ground. 
Thus it was that Kunerich was enabled to apj)eai* 
so suddenly in Edelbert’s sitting-room, and to take 
him prisoner in the very heart of his citadel. 


84 


ROSA VON TANNiaNBÜBG. 


CHAPTER IV. 

Edelbert sat sorrowfully in chains near the 
extinguished fire. Rosa knelt beside him weeping, 
inoummg, praying, and wringing her hands, while 
her curls flowed loosely about her. She was like 
a person dazed. She looked upon her father with 
eyes full of tears. It seemed to her that she saw, 
by the red light of the d}dng embers, only his 
image in a dream. The wild clamor of plundering 
and carousing resounded throughout the whole cas- 
tle ; but in the room it was as still and dark as 
in a vault lighted only by a weak flickering lamp. 
Only Rosa sometimes groaned heavily and cried out 
in her anguish. “That they should chain the hands 
that have so often rescued' the guiltless! and even 
dare to manacle his wounded arm ! Oh 1 God help 
him ! ” Then again she became silent and could do 
nothing but sob. Fmally Edelbert broke the silence. 
“Compose thyself, dear child,” said he, “and diy 
thy tears. This sorrow God has sent. Let us kiss 
His hand, even when it strikes us. He afflicts only 
for good. He will turn this bitter stroke to our 
best interest. We are in God’s hands. Nothing 
can happen to us against His will. Even our 
enemies can work only for our good. We will 
remain steadfast to our trust in God. Yes ; I be- 
lieve my faith is more firmly grounded than ever. 
Heretofore I relied too much on the grace of 


BOSA VON TANNENBUEO. 


35 


the Emperor and upon the favor of the Duke. 
But they can scarcely defend themselves now 
against their powerful foes, I trusted, indeed, in 
stone and iron, in walls and bolts and bars ; now 
I tiust alone in God. ‘May He alone, henceforth, 
be my merciful and true protector, and my svire de- 
fense.’” 

‘"We will now soon have to paid, dearest daughter,*’ 
said he, after a while, embracing her with his left arm, 
as the right was laden with chains, and the wound in 
consequence was paining him afresh. “O speak not of 
parting, beloved father,” cried Bosa, falling upon his 
neck, “they shall not tear me away from thy arms! 
I shall go with thee to j)rison and to death.” “No ; 
dear Bosa,” said her father quickly, “Kunerich will 
never consent that thou shalt remain with me. This 
comfort he wall deny me. Once more, we must part ! 
But attend now to my counsel. No one notices 
thee particularly, because of thy tender age ; try, 
therefore, to tly from the castle, so that thou 
mayest not be made to spend thy life like a slave 
in ignominious servitude. Some one of my servants 
will help thee to escape. The castle and all it 
contains Kunench takes possession of. Thou art now, 
become from being a Baron’s daughter, a very, very 
2^001* maiden, poorer than the least of the maidens 
th{it work for pay in my seiwice. But, although, 
they now thrust thee from thy paternal roof, and 
tiiou wilt not receive a farthing of thy mother’s in- 
heritance, be not des2)onding. Temporal goods do 
not deserve that we should woiTy ourselves over 


3(j BOSA VON TANNENBUBG. 

their loss. We cannot in truth, justly call them 
ours. Thou canst, in this moment, see how easily they 
may be taken away from us. And, even if we held 
them through the brief period of our lives, death 
would finally rob us of all. There are other treas- 
ures, dear child, of which no adversity, not even 
death itself can rob us — treasui’es in comparison witli 
which, gold, and pearls, and i^recious stones are fis 
nothing. I mean gentleness, industry, piety, virtue 
— with these thy mother was ever adorned, and 
this part of her inheritance remains wdth tin e and 
thou art rich. When thou dost escape from the 
castle, seek out our good charcoal-burner, the worthy 
Burkhard. He and his good wife will care for 
thee. There thou canst live in quiet concealmen- 
until he takes thee to the castle of one of 3ny 
friends. And shouldst thou remain with him for 
years, even spend thy whole life under his lowly 
roof, let it comfort thee to know, that, one can 
live contented and die blessed in an humble cot- 
tage — often, indeed, more peacefully in a cot than 
in a palace, and, after all, this is the best. Do 
not be ashamed of labor. Hard knots on the 
fingers of an industrious liand deserve more es- 
teem than jewels and pearls upon idle ones. Oh ! 
how good for thee is it now that thy sainted 
mother accustomed thee to industry and did not 
seek to teach thee that thy happiness consisted in 
line dress and intoxicating amusements. With dil- 
igent work unite devout prayer. The body shall 
work, the spirit lift itself to God. Work gains 


EOSA \’ON TANKKKKTEG. 


37 


bread for the body ; } rayer nourislies the soul. If 
thou must take the sickle iu thine hand, have God 
ill thy heart. Continued thought uj_on God can 
ennoble the lowliest work, and as it were, change 
the spinning-wheel and sickle into gold. 

“ Above all guard thy purity, avoid people who use 
such language as will cause thee to blush. I can no 
longer have a w'atch over thee, no more be thy good 
angel. Be it therefore thyself. Kemember that God 
ever sees thee, and that He looks also into the heart. 
Do nothing wicked, guard even thy thoughts from 
evil. Be not troubled about me, pray for me, and 
let the dear Lord care for the rest, for I know of a 
truth He will not leave me. Thy pure prayers will 
not remain unheard. However hard my fate may be, 
God can make it light ; iron doors and bolts do not 
keep Him out. God is everywhere except in the heart 
of the wicked, and He will be with me also in prison. 
Trust in Him as thy father does ; in Him, the only 
friend who never forsakes us. God will, as I hope and 
believe, free me again from imprisonment. But should 
this be the last time that thou shalt see thy father’s 
face, and should I have to languish in chains, let it be 
my comfort in my misery to think that my Eosa for- 
gets not my admonitions, that she treads in the foot 
steps of her blessed mother, is worthy of her parents 
and noble ancestors. And should the death hour break 
upon me in the dark, lonely drmgeon, with no eye to see 
me die ; no ear to hear my last sigh, no friendly hand 
to close my eyes softly in death, how it will console me 
to remember that I leave a good daughter behind, who 


38 


EOSA VON TANNENBUEG. 


will follow me to heaven. The last words of thj glori- 
fied mother, would also be my last words to thee. ‘ Ke- 
main pious, pure, good ; love God, cling to our divine 
Redeemer. ’ If thou should’st hear that death had for- 
ever loosed my chains, say over to thyself, ‘ those last 
words of my mother were also the last which my father 
said to me at parting’ — and follow them, so w ill God, 
who, with inscrutable, but certainly wdse and merciful 
purpose, took from thee thy mother and now takes 
also thy father, unite us all three again in Heaven. 
And, see, I have to-day suspended on its golden chain 
the gold medal which I received from the hand of 
the Emperor. I hid it here imder my doublet before 
the enemy came. Ah ! I cannot look at it without 
pain ; how uncertain indeed is all earthly happiness. 
In former times the Emperor honored me wdth this 
golden chain, now I must like a culjorit, wear iron 
ones. Take this golden badge of honor, meanwhile, 
in remembrance of me. Do not sell it, even in the 
greatest necessity. It can, when I am no longer living 
be of weightiest importance to thee, for thou canst prove 
by it at sometime, perhaps, that thou art of the noble 
lineage of Tannenburg. The beautiful emblem and 
the comforting w^ords upon the golden medal are w’orth 
more than the precious metal out of w^hich it is coined. 
Behold the ‘ Eye of God ’ surrounded with rays upon the 
one side, with the inscription ‘ If God be with t^s, w’ho can 
BE AGAINST US.’ Remember that God’s Eye sees every- 
where, and even watches over us, and that those who 
do all things as before that Eye, and keep themselves 
from sin have nothing to fear. On the other side thou 


ROSA VON* TANNENBURO. 


39 


wilt find a cross with a radiant garland, and the words, 
‘In THIS OVERCOME.' Remember ceaselessly the love of 
that One who died for us upon the Cross. We have 
all to strive and suffer in this world. In faith in the 
crucified One, however, and in true obedience to His 
Holy commandments, and in love and patience, follow- 
ing His beautiful example, trusting upon his almighty 
grace and in the hope of His promises, we can over- 
come all things that are against us. God has now, 
indeed, allowed a great sorrow to befall us ; but what 
is this suifering comjiared to that sorrow, tlirough 
which our diA*ine Redeemer passed to his glory ! In 
His glory will we also share, if we finish faitlifully our 
fight on earth, and in patience hold out to the end. 
And now kneel doA\*n, dearest daughter, that I may 
bless thee.” Rosa knelt down, Aveei)ing, folded her 
hands and bowed her lovely head, full of unutterable 
devotion and soitoav. The father laid his chained 
hand upon her head and said: “God the Almighty 
bless thee, mid the grace of our Lord and SaAÜour be 
Avith thee forever.” Then clasping his weeping daugh- 
ter again in his arms, he said, bursting into tears. 
“I will never forget in my lonely prison ceaselessly 
to pray for thee. Promise me also that thou Avilt not 
forget my fatherly admonitions, but Avilt follow them 
faithfully^ 

“Oh,” said Rosa, sobbing, “all this av ill I do, joy- 
fully, but I cannot, cannot leave thee. Oh, ask not that 
I should fly ! perhaps my supplications, my hot tears, 
will move this hard-hearted Knight so that he will per- 
mit me to folio AV thee in imprisonment. ” 


40 


KOSA VON TANNENBUKG. 


Now, a terrible clamor was heard once more in the 
castle. The hostile Knight commanded hi« people to 
depart ; except those who were to remain behind as a 
garrison. Armed men jDressed into Edelbert’s room. 
Rosa clinging close to her father begged that she might 
be taken with him to prison, but they tore her with 
force from his arms. Edelbert was led down to the 
Court 3"ard, which -vi^as illuminated by the lurid glare of 
many burning torches. The castle gate stood wide 
open to admit a multitude of soldiers on horseback, 
each leading a riderless steed, amongst which was 
Kunerich’s war-horse . decorated with glittering bridle 
and purple trappings . The excellent and patrician 
Edelbert was placed upon a common cart, whilst two 
large wa< ons which belonged to himself stood near 
laden mth plundered effects. Edelbert was forced to 
look on and see his fine horses led out of the stables and 
hitched to wagons, and ha\ing not yet recovered from 
his womids he shivered in the miserable, open vehicle, 
which had been provided for him. Kaiight Kunerich 
came finally into the yard, and swung himself upon his 
horse. Mounted men surromided the cart, and with 
wild tumult pressed hurriedly through the gate over 
the resounding drawbridge. The cavalcade moved 
slowly down the steep mountain. Rosa overtook them. 
Kunerich rode near the cart in which her "father sat. 
Weeping and praying, she pressed hei-self between 
Kunerich’s horse, and the cart, and begged with out- 
stretched arms to be allowed to sit with her father ; 
but Kunerich, affected not to hear her ; he did not 
look at her at all, but with one hand resting on his 


ROSA VON TANNENBUßO. 


41 


bip and bolding in tbe otber a drawn sword, be glanced 
deüantly ai’onnd. 

At tbe foot of tbe mountain Kunericb cried “Now, 
forward !” Ail spurred tbeir horses, the drivers lashed 
them furiously, and with wild baste away they sped. 
Rosa ran after them in storm and rain until her strength 
gave out, and tbe train at last vanisbinp; from her sight, 
left her alone in tbe forest and tbe dark. 






/ 



42 


EOSA VON TANNENBUBO. 


CHAPTER V. 

Rosa, who had heretofore seldom been without 
attendants and who had never left the Castle, without 
escort, now found herself alone and unprotected in 
blackest night, exposed to the violence of the storm and 
rain. She knew not which way to tuiTi, and sought 
long and vainly for a sheltered spot, in which to rest 
and await the coming day. Finally, she discovered a 
thick copse of young fir-trees, which afforded her a 
partial protection from the tempest. She felt no fear 
at the prospect of passing the night here alone, for 
her sorrow rendered her oblivious to all tenor. She 
had no thought but for her father, and her teai s and 
lamentations might have melted a heart of stone. 

As the morning sky began to grow gray, slie crept 
out of the thicket and looked about her ; the sight of 
tlie towers of her ancestral Castle, rising above the 
tops of the mountain ; the fir-trees, glistening, in the 
morning light, caused the tears to spring afresh to lier 
eyes. 

“How I long,” said she, “to\isit, once more, the 
home (if my fathers. Perhaps I might meet one of our 
faithful servants who would pity me and show me the 
way to the good Burkhard. But the place in which 1 
was born and raised is, indeed, forever closed to me. 
Scarcely was I out of the gate when it was barred and 


ROSA VON TANNENBrR(4. 


48 


the draw-bridjife raise« 1. Alas ! those dear ancestral 
halls liave fallen into hostile hands.” 

^^'ith a sad heart she descended the inountain path 
towards the forest m which the worthy Burkhard lived. 
She was unacquamted with the iieij:»hberliood, except 
thiough the descriptions given her l)y her father. Li 
the deepest recesses of the wood, arose a few rugged 
tir-clad hills, and between these hills was the dwelling 
place of the worthy (charcoal-burner. It w'as about two 
miles thither. Rosa fixed her eyes steadily upon 
the summit of the mountains and directed her way so 
as to keep between the two. But^she found in the 
wilds of the forest neither pathway nor foot print; she 
had now to work her way, with dilticulty, through a 
tlii(cket, then pass over a marsh, and again wade 
through a woodland stream, while the dense Forest 
hindered he;; seeing’ the far off mountains. 

Midday was already passed an-.l yet no mountain 
was visibh'. She was wandeiing courageouly on when 
suddenly, she heard, not ten paces from her, in ihe 
copse, a loud rustling and crackling— a large stag, ith 
majestic pronged antleis, rose up, stared at her with 
his wide open, black eyes, then turning aside, broke 
through the b andies and fled. She continued her way 
for a while unmolested ; when all at once she was 
frightened by the grunting of a wild hog. Rosa looked 
about. The huge animal had been rooting in a bog ; 
lifting up his head he looked grimly at her out of his 
small eyes and showed his frightful- teeth menacingly. 
Rosa, hastily took fright, and ran until nea ly out of 
breath. 


44 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


The thick bushes hnally stox^ped her, and sitting* 
down under a tree whose lower branches she thought 
to climb if the animal came after her. She listened 
attentively, but all remained quiet. She had now, 
however, entirely lost her way and knew not which 
direction to take, and the sun was fast sinking below 
the horizon. 

“ Ah,” sighed x3oor Rosa, “ I shall have to spend the 
night in this frightful wood among the wild beasts ! ” 
The hunger which her grief had hitherto prevented her 
noticing, began now to weaken her to such an extent 
that she feared she would faint. Thus, almost entirely 
exhausted, she again started on, and reached a little 
eminence in the forest from which she had a more 
uninterrupted view. Black clouds, with glowing 
crimson borders, veiled the sinking sun ; the gloomy 
surroundings were enveloped in a dull, blood-red 
vax^our. Rosa knelt down and prayed, “Dear* God, 
Thou has said, ‘ Call upon me in time of need and I 
will deliver thee and thou shalt glorify me,’ Fulfil in 
me this Thy word ! ” And behold as she prayed, the 
sun shone out fro a the clouds once again, and his 
beams illuminated a colimin of smoke which rose in 
the distance from the depths of the forest. “ O God ! ” 
cried Rosa jo^dully, “to Thee be praise and glory! 
Thou has fulfilled Thy word to me ! Thou hast saved 
me 1 There the good Burkhard is making his charcoal, 
for othei wise the entire forest is uninhabited ! ” She 
collected her remaining strength and hurried to where 
she saw the smoke ascending. Rosa had rightly 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


45 


surmised, Burkhard had here established his kiln, and 
had partially cleaved the surrounding woods. He was 
sitting upon a charcoal hea^). The stump of a tree, 
upon which he had fastened a little square board, 
served him as a rustic table upon which was spread his 
evening meal, consisting of bread, butter, and a 
pitcher of water ; his axe and his tongs lay near 
him on the grass. He watched the sun go down, and 
sang, with a strong melodious voice, and with intense 
devotion, his evening hymn, which resounded all 
through the forest. Rosa recognized his voice with 
joy, and quickened her steps. When the good Burk- 
hard saw Rosa coming in the distance, failing to 
recognize her, he started in surprise, wondering how in 
all tlie world so delicate a little Fräulein'^ came into 
the wild forest. So soon, however, as he knew her, he 
sprang up, greeted her from afar with a loud call, 
hurried to her, shook her hand pressing it energetically, 
after the old German fashion, and then begged pardon 
very politely, for having made her tender white hand 
so black and sooty ; at the same time evincing his 
astonishment at seeing her here. “ IMerciful heavens !” 
said he, “It is you Fräulein, you ! How in the name 
of wonder did you come here all alone, so late in the 
evening ? Certainly you have lost yourself ; well, well, 
you have come just in time ; I keep, this evening, open 
table, in the midst of fir and pine, oak and beach, and 

* The term Fräulein was formerly applied ©nly to unmarried 
ladies of high birth. It is now used, indiscriminately, in the same 
way that we use the word “ Miss.” 


46 


KOSA VON TANNENBtIKG. 


the meal is just served. Come and sit down with me 
on my new wooden sofa, and refresh and rest yourseK a 
little, for you must go back home to-day or your father 
would not close an eye through the whole night from 
anxiety.” “Ah,” said Rosa, “my father” — but sobs 
choked her utterance, “do you then not know the 
awful story?’ “Your father, the noble Baron,” cried 
the coal-burner frightened. If his face had not been 
so black with coal-dust and soot, its deadly palor would 
have been seen. “ Oh dearest Fräulein, only speak, in 
God’s name, speak, what is it ? What has happened to 
him?” “Oh Buikhard,” said Rosa, “Kunerich von 
Fichtenburg took him p isoner last night and dragged 
him in chains to his castle.” “He,” — cried the coal 

burner, grasping his rake, “ may the but,” said he, 

letting fall the rake, “ I will not swear, but if he has 
him in his power then it is hopeless, but tell how it 
happened. I camiot realize at all how that is possible, 
1 left your father just yesterday eveiiing, and aU was 
quiet and peaceful. How could Kmierich conquer 
such an impregnable fortress in one night ?” 

Rosa sat down near the man, on the trunk of a tree 
and began to narrate her history. The honest Burk- 
hard remarked soon, however, that she was hardly 
able to speak from hunger and weariness. He pressed 
upon her with cordial hospitality the buttered bread 
that was designed for himself. She partook with 
relish of the simple food, and from time to time, of the 
clear spring water in the pitcher. The burning coal 
heap lighted up the little frugal repast, and Rosa as- 


BOSA VON TANNENBURG. 


47 


serted that never in her life had food and drink 
tasted so good. “Yes! yes,” said the coal burner, 
“hunger is the best sauce, none like it, is found on the 
table of the rich, but we poor have it. Thus does the 
Good God equalize all things. 

After Rosa had refreshed herself and heartily 
thanked God for his gifts, she related fully how it 
had gone with her father. Burkhard listened open- 
mouthed, abusing at intervals the ci-uelty of Kunerich, 
and lamenting his dear, good master’s misfortime, 
often passing his hand over his eyes. As he imder- 
stood that Baron Edelbert had left the Fräulein in 
his charge he was so moved by this tmst that he began 
to sob aloud. 

“Well, my dearest Fräulein,” said he, “the dear 
God will not leave in fetters so good a man, but will 
deliver him certainly from the wolfs den, in the ac- 
cursed Fichtenburg, for God leads into the pit and 
leads out again. Only let the dear Lord manage and 
all will be right. And you, my dear Fräulein, I will 
ever be ready to serve. See this burning coal heap, 
you have only to say the word and 111 spring in. For 
3"Ou and yours I’ll go through fire. But you need rest 
and you are not strong enough to walk to my house ; 
however, there is a little hut, such as coal-burners are 
accustomed to build, which yill accommodate just one 
person. See, it stands there in the red glow of the 
coal pile under those three beech trees.” Tlie little 
hut consisted of some split staves planted crosswise, 
one upon the other in the eaiTh, and these were cov- 


48 


BOSA VON TANNENBUEG. 


ered with sod and woven in and out Avith young tir 
branches. 

“The four walls,” said Burkhard, smiling, “are 
indeed forgotten. The little hut is all roof. It is, 
however, so thick and strong that not a drop of rain 
comes through. The bed is of the finest dry moss, a 
mat of bast, which I plaited myself, is at the same 
time bed, curtain and house-door. I assure you 
though, when one like you, has a good consience, 
and is weary, they sleep as well there, as upon doAvny 
feathers under a golden canopy with silken curtains.” 

He conducted the little lady thither, and then sat 
down not far from his coal-bed under some thick 
branches of fir, where he had made a convenient seat 
of turf. He thought OA^er the narration of the Träu- 
lein the whole night through. AVhat most disturbed 
him Avas the thought that the help Edelbert had 
given him against Kunerich, was partly the cause of 
the noble knight having been taken prisoner. He 
scratched behind his ear a linndred times ; shoved 
his rusty cap backwards and forwards as often ; at 
length taking it entii'ely oE and holding it between 
his folded hands, he prayed fervently to God that He 
would rescue the noble knight, and comfort the good 
young lady. He thought not of sleep. Kosa, hoAv- 
ever, slept quietly until broad day desf)ite the fearful 
w^ind-storms which howled dui’ing the entire night 
through the bending firs, and the violent showers, 
which caused the whole forest to resound. 




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BOSA VON TANNENBÜRG. 


49 


CHAPTER VI 

"When the moming broke, the wind lulled. The 
clouds had dispersed, and all was still. The tops of 
the surrounding fir-trees glittered in the pure gold 
of morning. The coal-burner listened, from time to 
time, to see if the Fräulein was awake. He thought 
once that she was stirring and was thankful to find 
himself mistaken. 

“Oh!” said he, “howl envy her this rest! Sleep 
is such a great blessing of God ! It makes us forget 
sorrow ; it takes from us for a time, the burden w*e 
Pave to bear, and gives us new strength to take it 
up again. Hear Lord,” continued he, taking off his 
cap, “be praised for this Thy quiet gift — sleep. So 
methinks is it even with its brother, the longer sleep, 
xmder the covering of moss. Yes, this is a yet greater 
blessing, it frees us from sorrow forever, and is fol- 
lowed, when our life’s work is done, by the most joyous 
awakening.” 

After awhile, Agnes, the coal-burner’s daughter, a 
very kind, good-hearted maiden, came to the kiln. 
She carried a basket under her arm, which contained 
breakfast, dinner and supper for her father. 

Looking at him, she saw at once, that something was 
amiss, and that he bore a heavy burden on his heart. 
She asked him what was the matter? He motioned 


50 


KOSA VON TANNENBURG. 


to her to be still, so that she would not waken the 
Fräulein, led her to the mossy seat under the firs, 
related to her Edelbert’s history, and the good child 
wept ; tear after tear falling fast. Rosa ; meanwhile 
awakened. The morning sun shone directly in her 
sweet face, through a little opening of the hut which 
the coal-burner had left in order that he might look 
after the coal-heap ; and this awakened her. Remem- 
bering where she was, she w’ej^t afresh, and with tears 
upon her lovely cheeks, she came out of the little hut. 

The coal-burner and his daughter got uj) fi’om the 
moss bank, and hurried to her. “ Oh, do not, dearest 
Fräulein,” said Burkhard, “do not greet the morning 
with tears. See how beautifully clear the heavens 
are after the past stormy night, how brilliantly the 
rain-drops glisten on the young fir-trees and juniper, 
and how warm and lovely shines the sun.! Tlius also^ 
will the storm whi h has overtaken you and your 
father, soon x>ass away. After the thunder cloud 
comes the sunshine ; after sorrow, cometh joy. Trust 
only in the dear God from whom cometh sunshine 
and rain, sorrow and joy !” 

Rosa and Agnes greeted each other most affec- 
tionately as old acquaintances. They had not seen 
each other for a long time. Each wondered to see 
how much the other had groAvn in the interim. Agnes 
now opened her basket, and taking out a flask, poured 
sweet milk in a clean little earthen dish, and put it on 
the small, rural table. Then she brought out fresh 
butter and nourishing bread, and invited the Fräulein 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBG. 


51 


to breakfast. Rosa took her seat upon the root of a 
tree ; crumbling bread in the milk, she ate -with a 
neatly carv^ed wooden spoon, and enjoyed the repast. 
After Rosa had finished and thanked God and her 
kind host, the true-hearted man said : “ Now my dear- 
est young lady, go with my Agnes to my home and 
remain there imtil the dear Lord helps us. I will, 
meantime think over the matter here, whether, by the 
help of God I may also accomplish something. Go 
then with God. So soon as the coal heap there will 
allow, I wdll follow. Meanwhile, do not be so sad, and 
do not cry so much. Sadness does not help, and 
crying makes the matter no better. Listen how mer- 
rily the little birds in the trees around sing their morn- 
ing song. The good God, proGdes richly for the 
poor little creatures, therefore are they so joyous. 
You, dearest Fräulein, and your father, are far dearer 
to Him, therefore be joyful and comforted. Now, 
go Agnes, hold the Fräulein very carefully by the 
hand, going down the steep foot-path, so that she 
may not fall ; greet yoim mother for me. Go, and 
may the dear Lord guide you !” 

Rosa and Agnes set out on their way in the rough, 
almost impassable wilderness, by which the dwelling 
of the coal-burner was suiTounded. At first they had 
to go for nearly an hour without having any particular 
path, through a high, dark, fir forest. Emerging from 
this they came upon immense rocks overgrown with 
moss and bushes, between which a naiTow foot-path 
wound upwards. They had to climb a long time. Now 


52 


BOSA VON TANNENBUEG. 


tlie naiu'ow pathway led them by the steep side of high 
rocks, and by the side of abysses in which they could 
see far beneath them the tops of the highest firs. 
^Finally there was a frightful abyss, Rosa looked 
up, not without anxiety at the high thicket-covered 
rocks, which hung threateningly over her head and 
allowed only a span’s breadth of the pure, clear sky 
between. “Ah, Agnes,” said she, “whither art thou 
leading me ? I am alarmed as to whether we find a 
way out, or into what kind of frightful wilderness we 
shall now come.” She had hardly said this when an 
opening in the rocks revealed a little valley resemblmg 
a blooming garden spread out m the full si)lendor of 
the smi before her. “ Oh, how beautiful !” cried 
Rosa, it is to me like coming out of the wilderness 
to the promised land.” Her heart was lightened ; 
it aroused m her a joyous hope that God would, in 
like manner, give to her sad fate a joyful issue, and 
lead her from rough paths to happiness. Above in the 
beautiful rolling valley, stood the coal-burner’s house, 
with its flat, wide-projecting roof. The house was 
built entirely of wood, and the yellow bro-wm color 
gave it a not unpleasant apj^earance. Dark green 
■firs rose behind the house ; young, white and red- 
blossoming fruit trees surrounded it, and a little 
brook, clear as crystal, murmurred close by. The 
whole valley sparkled with fresh green and lovely 
flowers of all hues, and the high rocks and trees that 
surrounded this enclosure the entire year, sheltered 
it from the rough winds so that the sj) ring-time always 


BOSA VON TANNENBURG. 


5a 


came here earlier than elsewhere. Below, in the 
meadows of the valley cows were grazing, w'hüe on 
the sides of the copse-covered rocks, goats were climb« 
ing. A little well laid out garden, with a railed 
hedge of fir branches, bloomed and blossomed next 
to the house. A bee-hive, w ith cells of woven straw, 
stood in one comer of the gai’den ; the bees hummed 
joyously about as they industriously w^orked, and 
chickens scratched, contentedly, before the house-door 
in the sand. 

Rosa walked into the little sitting-room and w^earily 
seated herself u]pon the w^ooden bench. The little 
room was extremely clean, and through the clear little 
wrindow was a splendid view of the rocky valley. Ife 
was already mid-day. The coal-burner’s wfife was busy 
in the kitchen, but when she heard her daughter 
talking with some one, she came quickly to the door^ 
She greeted the young lady with indescribable delight, 
thinking she had only come to make a friendly visit, 
but wdien she learned how the matter stood, she broke 
into loud crying, then, recovering herself she com- 
forted Rosa most lovingly. 

“Dearest, best Fräulein,” said she, “we welcome 
you most heartily to our little vale and in our little 
cot. See, this house, which your father allowed us ta 
build, w’as erected, he little thinking you w^ere one day 
to occupy it. “ To you shall it now belong entirely ; 
therefore, be perfectly at home in your owm posses- * 
sions, until the good God shall restore you and your 
father to your castle, w^hicli he wfill assuredly soon do, 
*We w^ill all meanwhile endeavor to serve you.” 


54 


BOSA VON TANNENBT7BG. 


•Bosa said, much moved, “Oh, my God how much 
good it does one, when in distress, to fall into the 
hands of good people ! How I thank you for j-^our 
love ! How thankful I am that my father was always 
your friend !” 

The good wife had, however, now another trouble, 
which was, at least, not small to her, and which made 
her for awhile forget Rosa’s sorrows. “Alas,” said 
she, “I have so lovely and worthy and distinguished 
a visitor, and know not what I shall set before 
the Fraulein. We have to-day nothing but j^orridge, 
which is so thick and heavy that we could dance upon 
it. I do not know what to prepare. If it were only 
not already dinner time. However, Agnes, while away 
the time a bit for the young lady, and I will go into 
the kitchen and see what I can make out of floui', 
eggs, and butter.” “Rosa tried in vain to quiet her. 
The anxious, busy, house-mother went into the kit- 
chen, and brought within half an hour, some rural 
dishes, which were indeed very nicely x>repared ; but, 
she began afresh to make excuses. “We have neither 
beer nor wine,” said she sighing, “to set before a gra- 
cious young lady, nothing but water, wFich is indeed 
not suitable. To-day is the first time in my life that 
I have heavily felt my poverty.” 

“Oh, my dear Gertraud,” said Rosa, “you know 
not how rich and hapj^y you are in your poverty. Of 
•your food, by which you are all healthy and strong, 
and which also tastes very nice to me, I will not at all 
now speak, for you have something better than rare 


BOSA VON TANNENBÜBG. 


65 


iood and costly drinks — a still, quiet life. Oli, how 
much good this rest in your peaceful valley does my 
heart ! . How unrestful, on the contrary, -was it at our 
Castle ! How often my father, through all his pain,* 
was plagued with wtu-ldly affairs. How* often was 
he harassed by men who had quarrels ; how often 
troubled by sad tidings from war, and how dreadful 
was the enemy’s invasion ! Oh, be joyous, and thank 
God for this friendly retreat, where, instead of the 
world’s tumult and the trumpets of war — you hear 
nothing save the song of wood-birds, and the crowing 
of cocks, the lowing of cows and the little bells of 
goats. I would like to pass my whole life here, if 
only my father were with me ; and he would I know, 
agree with me.’* 



r 


56 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


CHAPTER yn. 

The worthy Burkhard had not allowed himself to 
be seen or heard for many days. He had onl}^ told 
his daughter (when she went again to carry his food in 
the forest,) that as he intended taking his coal to town, 
she need not bring him any more to eat, as he hoped 
soon to be home himself. All was ready and nicely 
prepared for his return when suddenly he, walked one 
evening, into the room. He had a heavy stag on his 
shoulder and in his hand he carried a bow and ariows. 
Laying his burden on the floor he gi’eeted the Fräulein 
and his people, all of whom were most heartily rejoiced 
to see him. “ Did 3'ou sell 3^our coal well, dear Burk- 
hard?” said the wife, “ Eh the coal !” cried Burkhard, 
“that was my last thought. If odIj" my golden hopes 
had not turned to coal : I have been dui’ing this time 
in all sorts of places, of which I would not previously 
speak to you. I went to see Knights whom our dear 
young lad^^’s father had helped out of great trouble, I 
proposed to them to storm Kunerich’s castle ; and to 
free our good master, forcibly, or, at least, to surprise 
Kuntrich in the chase, arrest him and shut him up in 
the deepest dungeon imtil he should release Edelbert 
and give him back all his stolen goods. But all my 
pleadings were in vain. They said, Kunerich was-, too 
powerful ; the undertaking too dangerous ; evil might 
result. We must wait until Edelbert’s other frienda 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


57 


returned from war, when they might perhaps make aa 
attempt. Concerning you, my young lady, the polt- 
roons did not once inform themselves, and I could 
have wept tears of blood over their ingratitude. I 
could not tell them, my dear young lady, that you were 
to be found with me, nor could I ask any of them if 
they would take you into their castle. You do better 
to remain with us, but you can think the matter over.’* 

“There is nothing to think over,” said Rosa, “I 
would a hundred times rather remain with you, if you 
will be so good as to keep me.” “ Keep,” cried Burk- 
hard, with tears in his eyes, “ Do you think we have 
forgotten how your noble-hearted father rescued mo 
from the hands of the evü Kunerich? How kindly he 
took me, with wife and child, to his castle ? House 
and food and all that we have, we owe to him, and we 
would be the most ungrateful people in the world if 
we could forget such deeds of kindness. No, no ! such 
ingi’ates are we not. Stay, ’ therefore, with us dearest 
Fräulein, I will perform a father’s part by you ; my 
Gertrude and my Agnes will fondle you, and we will 
all do everything to make this lonely abode bearable to 
you. Only believe that we find the greatest happiness 
in serving so lovely a young lady, the daughter of our 
benefactor and master.” 

He then took up again the stag which still lay at his 
feet, and said, “You have for many days my good 
Fräulein, had to put up 'v^nth Lent fa^e, the fresh 
venison shall give you an excellent supper now. I will 
myself prepare it. I have often done this when I was 


5S 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBÖ. 


with youi’ father in the chase,” saying this, he took the 
game to the kitchen. 

On the following morning he made many changes in 
his house, in order to have a more comfortable lodging 
for Eosa. He gave her the best room, which he had 
arranged as well as he could. “ So, my Fraulein,” said 
he, when he was through with the work, “now you are 
at least housed, food also sha'l not fail you. All the 
game in the great, broad forest around belongs to your 
father. I will bring in for you venison and hares, wild 
ducks and snipe, in abundance. Yes, if you wish it, 
whole stags and wild boai\” He conducted Eosa 
about in the valley, liis wife and Agnes accompanying 
them ; he showed her his fields and meadows, while he 
constantly extolled the generosity of her benevolent 
father. He took her to see his little garden, and when 
Eosa seemed pleased with the bees, he immediately 
made her a present of the prettiest cell in the hive and 
broke off for her some of the waxen cakes, as the bees — 
in w'hose sieve-covered cells the honey glittered like 
transparent gold — were well through the winter. He 
never came back from the kiln without bringing some- 
thing ; now a vessel made of fir bark, full of fragrant 
berries, then a little basket full of big clams, and a 
taste of edible mushrooms. He brought her a pair of 
little turtle doves, for which he himself prepared the 
cage. Once he came back from the forest with a lovely 
little fawn, which ran after him like a dog. He had 
tamed it for Eosa so that it 'would soon become accus- 
tomed to her also. Whenever he remained home a few 


KOSA VON TANNE NBUBG. 


59 


■days he quite understood how to amuse her ; he would 
talk to her frequently of the knightly acts of her father, 
and of the piety and benevolence of her blessed mother, 
of earlier times with which Kosa was not acquainted, a 
narration which was equally instructive and pleasing. . 

The good wife was not behind her husband in coui*' 
teous service. AVhen she heai’d that Rosa had been 
depiived of all her white linen, she busied herself with 
a motherly care to resupply her. She took linen from 
the chest and cut off some undergarments for her, she 
gave her knitting-yarn for hose, and regretted only 
that these wares were not fine enough for the young 
maiden. The industrious mother had, the winter be 
fore, spun a quantity of flax for a piece of veiy fine 
linen, so soon as it came from the weaver’s she gave it 
to the Fraulein and the cloth was immediately sxn'ead 
out upon the green tui'f, near the little brook, to bleach. 
This present was of double worth and gratification to 
Rosa ; first, because she had such need of it, and be- 
cause, it gave her at the same time useful employment. 

Agnes, also, was a very kind and pleasant companion 
to the young giid. They worked and amused them- 
selves together. Fräulein Rosa gave her lessons in 
sewing and knitting. They together sprinkled the 
cloth on the little bleaching ground. They took care 
of the little garden near the house, in which Rosa felt 
great interest, although scarcely anything was to be 
seen there except the most useful vegetables, cabbage 
and salad, leek and onion, radish and turnip, peas and 
beans; and as ornament, some golden-yellow meri- 


60 


BOSA VON TANNENBTJBO. 


golds, nasturtions red as fire, the blue convolvulus, and 
here and there, a purple red poppy. They went walk- 
ing in the blooming valley and in the splendid forest;, 
threw bread crumbs from the trellised bridge, to the* 
fleet little fish in the clear water below ; they hstened 
to the songs of a great variety of birds, with all of 
which Agnes was famihar ; they plucked berries and 
gathered all kinds of wild flowers ; in all of these 
things Rosa took a pecuhar delight. 

But the young girl was never perfectly joyous ; the 
fate of her father remained always in her mind ; often, 
they did not know where sbe was, and after long search 
they would find her in the deep gloom of the forest, or 
some grotto, where she, with tears, was praying for 
her father. Time, ofily, rendered her burden more in • 
tolerable, and the only rehef she experienced was when 
she and the good people made plans together, for 
lightening the misery of the dear prisoner, or for free- 
ing him altogether. 

One Sunday all four were sitting at dinner and tho 
hberation of the good knight from prison, was, as 
usual, almost the only table talk. The meal, was 
nearly over, and there stood, on the table, only a little 
earthen basin full of mushrooms, yellow as gold, richly 
prepared with fresh butter and spices. The coal- 
burner, who knew well how to distinguish between the 
edible and the poisonous mushrooms, had gathered 
them with great care for Rosa, because she liked them 
so much. “Eat, then, eat,” said he, “we don’t care 
much for the trash, but people of rank seem to think 


V 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


61 


wonders of them ; formerly, I carried many to your 
castle, specially of that kind called morel, and these 
are nowhere to be met with so good as near a kiln. 
Another coal-burner in the forest of Fichtenbui’g used 
to send very many to Fichtenburg Castle by his chil- 
dren. One of his girls, went into service to the 
Postern Guard, but his wife who was a very termagent 
drove the girl away before many days, and then my 
«ooty colleague, who is indeed a tolerably boisterous 
fellow, swore he would send no more mushrooms 
thither, even should the people come on their hands 
and knees and beg him for them.” Kosa sprang sud- 
denly up from the table and cried joyously: I have 

it ! This is the plan ! I shall dress myself as a coal- 
burner’s daughter, carry mushrooms to the Burg, seek 
to win favor with the warden’s wife, enter her service 
and bring matters so far, that I shall see my father and 
do him good in many ways, and perhaps be able to free 
him entii’ely. Oh, God ! ” she cried, gazing with folded 
hands to Heaven, “grant Thy blessing to this project.” 
The coal-burner shook his head and made objections, 
but Rosa refuted them all, and he had to give in. She 
hurried out of the door and came. in again, in a few 
minutes, dressed as a coal-burner’s daughter. She had 
changed her long sky-blue dress for one of Agnes’ neat, 
tidy suits. The red bodice, black jacket, and green 
skiit, together with the dazzling white collar and 
apron, fitted as though they were made for her, as did 
also the rural straw hat. The coal-burner’s wife and 
Agnes, sincerely pleased to see her di-essed like them- 


62 


ROSA yON TANNENBURG. 


selves clapped their hands with dehght, and felt even 
more confidingly towards her than ever. “ The dress 
is beautifully becoming to you,” said the wife, “but 
your sweet little face, looking hke milk and roses, and 
your tender white hands do not correspond with it, 
they will soon suspect who you are.” Burkhard knew 
of a harmless decoction by which her hands and face 
could be made brown, and which would wash off ; he 
at once made a trial of it, and his wife and Agnes ex- 
claimed, “Oh, that’s it, no one can recognize you now !’^ 
Bosa wished to go immediately, on the following day 
to Fichtenburg, lest another maid should obtain the 
place. “ Try it then by God’s help,” said the charcoal 
burner. “ This evening I will gather the finest mush- 
rooms, the golden-yellow, and silver-gray ones, and 
there are some strings of dried morel already 
hanging up in the house. Agnes will accompany you 
through the woods to the little hill, where stand the 
three stone crosses, and from which point Fichtenburg 
can be seen, so that you can not miss the way. There 
near the crosses in the forest she shall await your 
return.” 

Very early on the following morning Bosa was ready 
for her journey. She carried on her arm the basket of 
mushrooms, and Agnes took another in which was food. 

The coal burner and his wife, earnestly blessed Bosa, 
when she departed and gave her much wise counsel. 
Then — looking after her with tearful eyes — the coal- 
burner said: “The good child, she must succeed or 
there is no force in the promise of the fifth command- 
ment.” 


BOSA VON TANNENBUEO. 


63 


CHAPTER Vni 

Rosa, in tlie garb of a charcoal burner’s daughter, 
reached, safely, the end of the forest, which had hereto- 
fore separated her from the rest of the world, and her 
heart was pierced at sight of the distant high watch- 
towers of Eichtenburg. 

“Oh, God,” she said, “perhaps in the dungeon 
under this tower my father is lyiug. How is he 
indeed? Is he well? Ha? he not succumbed under 
the biu'dens of sorrow and imprisonment? Does he 
still live ? O that I may succeed in getting to him. 
O God direct my footsteps and let me find favor with 
those to whom I am going.” 

Rosa took leave of Agnes and continued her journey- 
alone. When she had climbed up to the high Castle^ 
and walked through the open gate, she saw Knight 
Kunerich, on horseback, dazzlingly attired in green and 
gold with a swaying tuft of black and white Ostrich 
i:)lumes upon his helmet. He was surrounded by 
many pages and hunters, all just starting on the chase. 
At sight of her father’s cruel enemy, Rosa felt her 
knees tremble under her, and, no longer able to stand 
she was obliged to sit down on one of the stone 
benches near the postern. Then the huntsmen’s horns, 
resounded and the cavalcade ^Dassed out very close to 
her. Rosa stood up, but the proud Knight scarcely 


6i bosa von tannenbukg. 

glanced at the poor trembling girl as he rode out of 
the gate with his people, and she again seated herself 
on the bench, her heart unutterably anxious, and feel- 
ing much alai’ined. She thought it was best to wait 
until some one spoke to her. After awhile some 
children came, and standing off at a little distance, 
looked at her. Rosa spoke kindly to them and asked 
their names which they told her, becoming at once 
quite confident. Othmar, the boy, lifted up the lid of 
the basket, W'hich she had put down on the bench 
Reside her, and peeped to see what w^as in it, whilst the 
little Bertha reached out her hand after the blue and 
red kornhlumen which Rosa had stuck in her straw hat. 
Rosa gave the flowers to the little girl, and presented 
both children with some sweet, early peas, which the 
coal-burner’s wife had given her to eat on the way. All 
three were soon talking together as easily as though 
they were brother and sisters. 

These were the children of the Postern Guard or 
warden who, just then glanced, furtively from a little 
side door of the . postern, which was inade there, in 
order to observe what passed in and out, and who was 
^rprised to see a strange maiden talking so familiarly 
with his children. The pure accent, the gentle voice, 
the noble carriage, of the friendly country maid, in the 
neat, spotless, peasant dress appeared remarkable 
^.to him. 

“Never in my life,” said he, “have I seen such a 
neat little peasant maid.” 

He came out and led Rosa into the room. “ Yv'hat 


ROSA YON TANNENBUEO. 


65 


have you there for sale?” asked he in a friendly 
manner. 

Rosa opened the basket and showed him the mush- 
rooms, and the man asked what she would take for 
them. 

“ What you are willing to pay,” said Rosa, “ for I 
think you would certainly not give a poor girl too 
little.” 

“That is well answered ! ” said the man, “wait here 
I will myself take them to the Castle kitchen and 
bargain for you. They have not been able to get any 
for a long while. I will take care that you shall not 
receive too little for them.” He took the basket and 
went off. 

Very soon after this the wife of the guard came into 
the room bringing soup for dinner. 

“ How did you come in here, you audacious hussy? * 
said she to Rosa. “Who are you? W^hat do you 
want ? How dare you come right into this room, a 
perfect stranger, without being announced? Take 
yourself out immediately, or I’ll throw the key at your 
head, and set the whole pack of house dogs on you.” 

The children begged for Rosa^ and showed the fruit 
and flowers which she had given them, and just then 
the warden came back with the empty basket and 
money. 

“Well, well,” said he, “do not be quite so violent. 
The girl is honest, and I thought perhaps she would 
remain with us as we again have need of a servant. 
But if yo» carry on like that no one will stay with you. 


6Ö 


ROSA VOK TANNENBIJRG. 


and besides, I, myself, brouglit the good cliild into tbe 
room. ” 

That is another thing,'’ said his wife ‘Hhen she 
may stay. You must not take it amiss child, that I 
flew into a passion, for it is necessary to keep a care- 
ful eye upon all strangers, else we’d have nothing.” 

‘‘You are ihght,” said Rosa, “you assuredly could 
not know that I was brought in here, and I was also to 
blame for remaining alone in a strange room, under 
these circumstances. I admire your zeal and beg your 
pardon.” 

That pleased the wonien, for whenever she was 
recognized to be in the right, she was readily satisfied. 

“Because you divided your fruit with my children, 
you shall share a part of our dinner, come sit down to 
the table and eat with us.” 

Rosa dined with them, but although the two children 
gave her so much to do that she could scarcely take a 
spoonful to her mouth — yet she constantly talked to 
them, with her own peculiar affability of manner, 
answered all of their questions, and was so kind to the 
little ones that the mother was charmed. When Rosa 
took the empty basket and was about to go both child- 
ren cried, “Stay here, stay here.” “Yes, I would like 
very much if you could stay,” said the mother, “could 
you not come into my service?^’ 

“Oh, most gladly,” said Rosa, “and I would serve 
you faithfully and honestly."^’ 

“Very well,” said the woman, “go home first and 
speak to your people about it^ and if they agree, you 


BOSA VON TANNENBÜBG. 


6T 


can enter into service here on the following Saturday.’^ 
She also mentioned, while putting some white bread 
and dried meat into her basket, how much she would 
pay her. “My compliments to yom’ people,’^ said she, 
“ and may you reach home safely.” 

Rosa thanked her for the gift, and hurried to the 
forest, where Agnes was sitting under a hazel bush, 
not far from the three crosses, knitting. She sprang up 
quickly as soon as she saw the Fräulein coming in the 
distance and ran to meet her, saying, “ God be praised, 
my dear Fräulein, that you are back again. You must 
be weary and hungry. Come sit down under the hazel 
bush, on the green, where my basket is, and refresh 
yourself with milk and bread and butter — and tell me 
how all has' gone.’’ 

Rosa went with her — “Oh, you good Agnes,’’ said 
she, “ You have really waited lunch until my return. 
You have not in all this time touched anything, do eat 
now. Although I have had something to eat already, 
I will sit down with you for a few moments, but let us 
hurry, we must not risk the dangers of the night, and 
I can talk with you as we walk, and also eat another 
little piece of buttered bread on the way.” Agnes said 

Yes, I can do that too.” 

They started without delay. Deep in the forest, 
when the sun had gone down, they rejoined t)ie faithful 
coal-burner and his wife, who were uneasy about Rosa 
and Agnes, and had come to meet them. The good peo 
pie rejoiced that everything had gone so well, and were 
only pained that now they must lose their beloved 


68 


KOSA yON TANNENBUEG. 


Fräulein. They passed the rest of the time returning, 
in confidential talk. 

When they reached the httle valley the full moon 
had already risen in the East and was illuminating 
with its saffron beams the peaceful dwelling of the 
coal-burner. 

Rosa returned to her room very weary but also very 
happy and thanked God upon her knees, before she laid 
her down to sleep, that He had blessed the beginning 
of her undeiiaking and begged Him to guide it to a 
happy end. 



BOSA VON TANNENBURÖ. 


CHAPTER IX. 

The following Saturday, upon which Rosa had to go, 
was a very sad day for all in the house. It was inex- 
pressibly hard for her to leave these good people who 
were so kind to her, and the lovely valley in W’hich 
she had lived, so peacefully, to go to the castle of an 
enemy, of whom she could not think without fear, 
knowing as she did, but too w ell, that she was now 
entering upon a seiwice in which no small suffering 
awaited her. 

But strong in her trust in God and her love to her 
father, she courageously persisted. The honest Burk- 
hard and his wife accompanied her to the end of the 
forest, and then with burning tears and devout wishes 
for blessings upon her head, took leave of her — but 
Agnes, who carried her little traveling bundle accom- 
panied her to the gate of Eichtenburg. The gate- 
keeper’s wife received them both in a friendly manner. 

“That is honest to keep your w^ord,” said she to 
Rosa. “Now take a seat, I will see that you both ai-e 
comfortably entertained.” 

Rosa opened the basket which she had on her arm, 
and gave the woman some reels of very fine flax, as a 
reciprocal greeting from her people, which made her 
even more friendly. 

“You and your people know what good-breeding 
is,” said she, “all will be well with you,” 


70 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBÖ. 


Bosa liad brought pears and plums and a quantity of 
hazel nuts and dried dornschlehen for the children, with 
which they were unusually delighted. All were very 
happy. After dinner, Agnes took leave of Bosa with 
many tears. 

"‘There, there,” said the Frau, “do not cry so, you 
can often come to see us. I will be much pleased, 
and if you will always bring with you some moril I will 
be aU the more pleased and your expenses will be 
defrayed. 

Agnes promised to come quite often, and went out 
of the door still sobbing. 

Thus, Kosa, who had now parted from all her trusted 
friends, found herself within the walls of a hostile cas- 
tle, andshe felt herself perfectly alone in the world. 

After Agnes was gone the warden’s wife seated her- 
self in the large arm-chair, that stood near the stove, 
assumed a slightly lofty air, and said, pointing to the 
floor, “You Eosel, stand there awhile. I have a few 
words to say to you ; pay strict attention. I know weE 
that people say they cannot, at all, deal with me, be- 
cause I an too passionate and out-spoken. I have had 
nearly twenty servants in five years and everbody in 
the whole country around here, will tell j'ou the same 
thing, but they say nothing of what kind of faults these 
servants had. I must describe these specimens to you.’' 

She began with fluent tongue and much warmth to 
describe her previous maids. “The first,” said she, 
“Brigitte — but I will not mention the name of the 
servants, for I would not bring them into evil repute ► 


BOSA VON TANNENBURG. 


71 


I will only put their faults before your eyes as a warn- 
ing. Well the Brigitte, with whom I was perhaps the 
most enraged, was in the highest degree proud and 
haughty, she always knew best and was never wrong. 
Once she burnt a cake for me as completely to a coal, 
as though she had learned the art from a charcoal bur- 
ner, and yet she asserted to my face in a perfectly 
shameless manner, that the cake looked as beautifully 
yellow as gold and that none in the whole world could 
taste better. Then my wrath ran over and I showed 
her the door. 

“The other was greedy, satisfied with nothing 
and always surly and peevish. She constantly 
made a face as though she tasted worm-wood, and 
always had some complaint against the food. More 
than ten times she reproached mo by saying ‘ she had 
too much work and too little pay,’ and I finally had 
enough of it and said, ‘Well, Urshel, then look for a 
service where you will have less work and more pay.’ 

“ The third was laziness itself. I thought I should never 
live to see her finish any work. While she washed a 
cooking utensil the grass could grow under her feet. 
She was too lazy to stoop, and when she had swept the 
room, she left the broom lying before the door, walk- 
ing over it ten times, until at last I would have to stand 
it in the corner. Every morning I had to wake her 
and call out about ten times, ‘Do get up you lazy 
Käthe.’ It really was almost necessary for the angel 
Gs/briel with his trumpet to come and rouse her, 
and I believe if I had just let her lie, she would bG 


72 


BOSA VON TANNENBURO. 


sleeping now. Who would be willing to have such a 
lazy servant in her service ? I said she should go, and 
if she was too lazy to walk I would have her removed 
in a wheel-barrow. 

"‘The fourth was dainty mouthed ; cream and but- 
ter, bacon and lai*d, were about as safe before her 
as before a cat. One Sunday afternoon in Spring 
time, I started to the next village to meet my 
husband w^ho was across the field. On the way I 
looked around, and saw smoke issuing from my chim- 
ney. I returned immediately, and as I stepped into 
the kitchen, what do you suppose I saw? There 
sat my fine Margrethe by the hearth with a great dish 
full of ai)ple pies before her. Dear me, how I be- 
haved ! She had to take herself, bag and baggage, out 
of the house, for who could endure to keep even over 
night such an untrustworthy animal ? 

“The fifth was untidy in her dress, but fine on Sundays 
and feastdays, when she walked in here like a peacock ; 
but on week days she looked as though she was composed 
of dirt and rags. K anybody had stuffed her and stood 
her in the fields, she would not only have scared the 
crows, but even the wild hogs would have run away 
from her. The Knight sent this one away ; he said it 
was unbecoming that such a scare-crow should meet 
the eye of anybody on entering the castle. 

The sixth was in the highest degree forgetful and inat- 
tentive, and did not, in the least, look after my interests. 
She did not think of a thing, and I had to tell her afresh 
every day what she had to do each hour. She broke. 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBG. 


73 


for me, more dishes and jars than are days in the year. 
She poured out the pewter spoons with the rinsing 
water, and I found one of them in the pig-sty, which 
the hog had chewed up. Soon after she broke a glass 
all to pieces, I heard it jingle and ran into the kitchen, 
but she had ah'eady hidden the bits and she denied the 
deed. However she was not sly enough for me ; she 
had thro'^m the pieces of glass in the dish-water, from 
whence I fished them, and in my eagerness cut my 
finger, which made me more angry. ‘ So,’ said I, ‘ the 
pieces of glass are to choke my hogs — But rather 
than lose my hogs I will part with you.’ She had to go. 

“The seventh was pert and tattling as a jackdaw. 
She always evesdrnpped at doors ; and all that passed 
in the house, she told outside, and occasioned many 
quarrels and disputes by so doing. If you wished any- 
thing to be well known, it was only needful to entrust 
her with it ; and thus you could si3are yourself the ex- 
pense recessary for its publication. She was a horrible 
chatterbox, who exaggerated every thing and never could 
come to the end of her story. But — listen ! some one 
rings for me ; I must stop now. I am quite sorry, for 
I have much more to say, and I could talk to you of 
each one of these servants for hours. We will save 
the rest until to-morrow, as it will be Sunday, and we 
wdll have plenty of time to talk about it. Meanwhile 
note these faults and guard against them, as against all 
others which I will show you through the mirror of 
my several maids so that we may not have to fall out 
with eacli other.” 


74 


ROSA VON TANNENBUEG. 


Rosa readily comprehended that the woman her- 
self, had exaggerated matters, and was not justified in 
complaining of others, because of her own loquacity. 
She also very rightly thought that these maids should 
first have a hearing before passing judgment upon 
them, therefore she simply said : 

“If a servant had only a tenth part of the faults 
enumerated, she deserved blame, and a housekeeper 
who upholds industry, cleanliness and good manage- 
ment, could not, of course, be satisfied with her. I 
will take j)ains to shun all of these failings.” 

Rosa was really the embodiment of a good servant, 
she served her earthly master according to the teach- 
ings of Jesus and his apostles, not only before their 
eyes, that she might be praised of men, but with an 
honest heart and through fear of God. Whatever she 
did, she did it with her whole heart, willingly — as 
though she did it unto God, and not unto men. She 
was untiringly industrious ; it wns a pleasure to look 
on and see how briskly she took hold of the work, and 
how well everything succeeded wfith her. It was never 
necessary to command her twice ; for she did the daily 
work at the right time, and did not wait to be told. 
She, herself, saw what w^as to be done before anybody 
had time to think of giving an order. Furniture and 
household articles she put in place when they w'ere not 
being used, and kept the room tidy in the highest de- 
gree, never resting until the utensils in the kitchen glit- 
tered 80 brightly that they seemed to smile upon aU who 
came in. With the property of her mistress, she was 


BOSA VON TANNENBURO. 


75 


more careful than with her own, and handled the 
earthen utensils as carefully as though they were made 
of the finest porcelain. She never let a needle lie on 
the floor, but took it up and stuck it in her mistress’s 
pincushion. It would have been a horror to her to' 
eat tit-bits secretly, she would have been afraid of the 
sin of purloining even a skein of thread. She was very 
quiet, and never allowed anything that was said or 
done in the house to pass her lips. She was very 
easily satisfied and contented, and therefore always 
cheerful and friendly. She was modesty itself. When 
she made a mistake, she acknowledged the fault and 
begged pardon. 

When she was scolded without cause, she understood 
the great art of keeping quiet at the right time ; and 
her silence and the sight of her angelic demeanor, 
touched and softened the irritable woman more than, 
anything which Rosa could have said in her own defence. 
The gate-keeper’s wife gradually became more amiable, 
and there was actually here and there a day when, to 
the no little astonishment of her husband, she did not- 
quarrel one single time. Rosa had nevertheless a very 
hard service. She was mistress of the delicate femi- 
nine work suited to her age ; but to much of the rough 
work which she now had to do, she, as a nobly bom 
Fräulein, was entirely unaccustomed, and for this rea- 
son it was very hard for her. She was obliged to get 
up every morning before day, bring wood and water, 
light the fire in the kitchen, wash up the things, sweep 
the room floor, and the kitchen pavement, and do much 


76 


iwsA vo:t tanxenburg. 


'Other work of like nature. As there were many kinds 
of work which she did for the first time in her life, 
and which she could not at once accomplish pei’fectly, 
she Tras scolded as stupid and unskillful by the irri- 
table woman and called ail kinds of bad names. The 
food was good of its kind, but many of the dishes were 
so new and strange to the patrician Fräulein that it 
cost her a little -struggle to partake of them. Her bed 
was clean, it is true, but for one of noble birth, very 
miserable. "WTien she had worked hard from early 
morning to late evening, and had been scolded and 
quarrelled with, she would go, weary and sad, to her 
little bedroom and her only comfort was to have half 
an hoiu* to herself when she could be alone and carry 
her sorrows to God. She often opened the Avindow, 
looked up to the stars with tearful eyes and prayed, 
Oh, my God, I will bear all of these sufferings if 
only at the end, my beloved father shall by this means 
be freed.” 







ROSA VON TANNENBUEOv 


77 


CHAPTER X. 

Rosa had already spent many hard days in her ser- 
vice, and still had found no opportunity of getting to 
her father. It was very painful to her to he so near 
and yet not to he ahle to see him. However, all at 
once, she felt a ray of hope, for she had noticed that 
the warden was also jailor and had to carry food to the 
prisoners. She informed herself from time to time con- 
cerning all prisoners, and thus heard that her beloved 
father was, at least, alive and well. She often asked 
the warden to show her the prisoners, hut he always 
shook his head and said : “ One must not he over 
curious.” Often she could not keep hack the tears 
when she saw the little earthen dish of weak soup 
together with the hlack bread and water pitcher 
which ^vere designed for her father. 

“Ah,” she said * sighing, “what I suffer is nothing 
compared to what he has to endure ! I w ill hence- 
forth look upon all my sorrow^s as trifles.” 

One evening just as the soup for the prisoners was 
standing ready on the tray, the jailor said to Rosa, 

Come wdth me ! to-mori’ow I have to go away on 
business, for my lord, so I will show you the dun- 
^i’eons, in order that you may take food to the inmates 
or mv wife has little time and still less inclination to 
doit.” 

He took the tray of things in one hand and the 
bunch of rattling keys in the other, and went on 


78 : 


ROSA VOJr TANNENBUBGL 


through a long dark passage. It was a most unex- 
pected event to Ivosa that she should see her father 
at this moment. 

As great as was her joy she felt a kind of fright — 
she was perfectly tremulous. With beating heart she 
followed the keeper through the dark way. She was 
by this time quite composed, and "controlled herself 
steadily, not wishing, as yet, to let her father know 
her, ‘"For,” thought she, “if the secret that lam hia 
daughter should be found out, they would certainly 
not entrust me with the key to his cell.” 

The Keeper remained standing by a little opening 
which was in the thick wall, and which was closed by 
a little iron shutter. This he raised. Eosa looked 
eagerly and tremblingly in. A man with uncombed 
hair and beard and a terrible countenance, sat in the 
dai’k dungeon. “He,” said the jailer, “was a brave, 
robust warrior ; but the passion for gaming and ac^ 
cursed di’ink, degraded him from a noble, brave soldier, 
to a highwayman. I should not like to share the re- 
ward which awaits him.” He handed in the souj) and 
water, and again closed the opening. 

He unfastened another little window shutter ; Eosa 
S3W in the damp vault a deathly pale female figure in 
hoavy chains, with streaming hair, sunken cheeks and 
eyes full of indescribable melancholy. 

“ This,” said the jailor, as he placed the soup inside 
and again closed the shutter, “ was once a maiden as 
beav^ful as an angel, if only she had remained as pure. 
But ^he secretly strayed into evil paths, and now a 


340SA VON TANNENBtTBO. 


79 


heavy suspicion rests on her of being a child murderess. 
If it is tru3, she will be put to death by the sword. 
Despair often makes her quite mad, therefore if you 
value your life, never open the door of her cell, she can 
do you an injury and escape. 

“Into this one alone can we dare go,” said the 
warden, as he opened an iron door — “This is a good 
man — gentle and uncomplaining as patience itself, it is 
Baron Edelbert von Tannenburg.” 

The poor trembling Bosa, would not have known 
him. He was very pale and thin and had a long beard. 
His clothing was worn out and threadbare. 

He was sitting upon a stone seat to which he was 
bound, with a long chain so that he might walk about 
in the dimgeon, and uj^on the table, near by, which was 
hewn out of a single large stone, stood a a earthen jug 
together with some dry bread. The good Baroa had 
his left arm resting upon the table and he leaned his 
forehead on his hand. The right, he sadly offered to 
his jailor. Near the table stood an old worm-eaten 
wooden bedstead. Some straw and a coarse woolen 
covering served as bed. The whole aspect of the jnnson 
was terrible and comfortless in the ex’reme. 

Being designed for captive Kn'ghts it was very 
spacious and lofty, masoned around with gigantic 
blocks of stone and the vaultel ceiling and walls were 
dark gi ey from age. There w..s only one single harrow 
window, strongly grated in the thick wall. The greak 
er part of the little round window panes were filled up 
on the outside by rubbish, the others were overgrown 


80 


BOSÄ VON TANNENBtIRG. 


by nettles, so that only a few rays of light penetrated 
this gloomy sepulchre, and these served merely to 
render it more awful. 

“Baron,” said the jailor, “my servant girl will bring 
your meals to-morrow, I have to go away on business.” 

Edelbert looked at Rosa, and was immediately re- 
minded of his daughter, yet he did not recognize her. 

“ My God,” he sighed as the tears came to his eyes, 
“ my Rosa is just that size and age. Oh, can you tell 
me nothing at all of her, good warden ? Have you been 
able to obtain no information concerning her, where 
and how she is ? I have indeed asked you this a hun- 
dred times.” 

The warden replied, “The dear God in Heaven 
knows where she is, for no one among men has been 
able to discover what has become of her.” 

“ Ah, Gkni,” said Edelbert, “ so then not one of those 
Knights who, in my prosperity, called themselves my 
friends, has felt pity on my daughter and taken her to 
his castle ! ” 

Edelbert now thought of his faithful Burkhard and 
hoped that Rosa was with him, but would not give 
them to imderstand this as he did not wish the good 
charcoal-burner to come to any misfortune through his 
enemy Kunerich, so he only said : 

“ Well, well ! I trust she is with God-fearing people, 
who watch over her so that she shall remain good and 
pme. Only, dear Lord, grant me the assurance of this 
before I die in this dungeon, then will I close my eyes in 
peace without even seeing her face again. How yearn- 


ROSA VON TÄNNENBURG. 


81 


ingly do I wish this before my death ! Warden, you do 
not know what a dear, good child my Rosa was to me, 
how she loved me, how she did everything for me, ever 
divining my wishes. She was never other than a com- 
fort to me. But I believe wherever she is, it will be 
well with her. Be thou, dear child,” turning to Rosa, 
as obedient to thy parents if they are living.” 

Rosa, who until now, had felt only terror, at the 
awful dungeon and the pale face of her father, began to 
weep and sob as if her heart was broken, and it was 
with pain she restrained herself from falling upon her 
father’s breast. 

Edelbert wondered to see her so moved and said : 
“ Hast thou but recently lost thy father and mother 
that thou weepest so hopelessly ? ” 

Rosa could scarcely reply for tears, that her mother 
had been dead for a long while, and her father was 
still living, though in great distress. 

“Well,” said Edelbert, “God will have mercy upon 
him ! Thou hast a very tender heart, dear child ! God 
preserve it from evil ! ” 

“ It is true,” said the jailor to Rosa, “you are far too 
soft hearted, do not cry so else I cannot resign this busi- 
ness to 3^011. As for the rest,” continued he, turning to 
Edelbert, “ she is a genuinely good child, so gentle, so 
willing, so industrious; there cannot be found ten 
miles around a better maid, and my wife and I cannot 
praise her enough, for the love and care she bestows 
upon our children. If only my little Bertha will become 
like her, I will thank God every day upon my knees.” 


82 


KOSA VON TANNENBüßG. 


Edelbert looked at Kosa with unutterable kindness. 
“ God bless thee, dear daughter ! ” said he, offering her 
the fettered hand, “always be a good child, pray 
earnestly and trust in God, and thy father will assured- 
ly be sustained and live to have great joy in thee.” 

“ God grant it ! ” said Rosa, with broken voice, as 
the kissed the outstretched hand, upon which her hot 
toars fell. 

It was well that the jailor had to retire, for Rosa 
could not longer have restrained herself, she scarcely 
knew how she came out of the prison, she reeled back 
through the long passage and was compelled to support 
•h<Tself by the sides of the wall to avoid falling. 



BOSA TON TANNENBUKG. 


83 


CHAPTER XI 

Rosa spent the remainder of the evening in very sad 
thought. The wan look, of her beloved father bui’den- 
ed \\ ith chains as she had seen him in prison, was ever 
before her eyes. His suffering pierced her soul and 
only the near hope of discovering herself to him and 
lightening his misery, mitigated her pain. As soon as 
the full days work was doae and she was at liberty to 
retire to her bed-room, she fell down on her knees and 
prayed with burning tears unto God that He, who had 
heretofore blessed her undertaking, vrould still further 
assist her and bring, through her, comfort and refresh- 
ment to her poor oppressed father. She then laid her- 
self do'.vn to sleep, but she Lad hardly closed her eyes 
when she was awakened by the guard’s wife to prepare 
a breakfast for her husband who had to go away at two 
o’c ock. She kindled the fire and made some soup 
v/hi st the warden praised her cookery and promised to 
bring her something if she did her work well in his 
absence ; then swinging himself on his horse, he rode 
away. The drawbridge was again lifted up and the 
gate key delivered to Kunerich by a soldier, who 
always kept it in strong custody at night. 

The warden’s wife went to sleep again and Rosa 
found herself alone in the desolate room. Softly and 
carefully she selected from the bunch of keys, the one 
which belonged to her father’s prison, and taking the 


84 


RÖSA VÖN TANI'hsNBTTRG; 


jailor^s lantem whicli hung in the doset near them, 
went into thene:st room where she waited awhile to see 
if all in the castle was still and quiet, then putting her 
little oil lamp into the lantern, she threw her apron 
over it, stole barefoot through the long, awful passage, 
to the cell of her father, and as noiselessly as possible 
opened the door. Entering the prison with her dim 
lantern, which the soot rendered yet more obscure, she 
saw — Edelbert sitting with folded arms on the stone 
near the table. He was surprised as he thought he 
recognized, by the sickly glare of the lantern, the 
servant girl of the jailor. 

“ Is it thou, good child ? What dost thou want so 
late at night, or rather so soon in the morning ? It is 
not long since the watchman cried two o’clock.” 

“Forgive,” whispered Kosa in a low voice, “that I 
disturb you, though as I see, you have not slept. I 
wished so much to talk with you alone, that is why I 
came at this hour of the night.” 

“ Oh, my child,” said Edelbert, “ that is dangerous, 
evil might come to you, a good child should generally, 
at night, never set foot over the threshold of her 
chamber, but rather fasten the doors more securely, 
like the window of my prison cell here.” 

“ Dont be uneasy,” said Rosa, “all in the castle, the 
watchman and even the cock, lie in deepest slumber, 
not without consideration and prayer do I come here, 
God directs my footsteps and He is truly with me. 
Only a few words do I wish to speak with you, your 


BOSA VON TANNBNBURQ. 


85 


distress about your daughter goes so to my heart, that I 
cannot sleep — I come to give you tidings of her.” 

“Of my Rosa ?” asked he quickly. “Oh, God! if 
that were so, then wert thou, dear child, as welcome to 
me as an angel of heaven, who might visit my prison. 
Oh, say on, say on, dost thou know her ? Hast thou 
seen her ? Hast thou thyself spoken with her ? Is she 
well ? Is all well with her ? Oh, speak, speak ! Canst 
thou tell me an^^thing definite concerning her ? ” 

“ I can give you the most positive tidings of her,” 
said Rosa. “See here! do you recognize this golden 
chain, this golden medal ? ” 

“ God of Heaven ! ” cried Edelbert clutching it with 
shaking hands. “That is truly the golden souvenir 
which I gave to my Rosa in the parting hour as a con- 
tinual reminder. I commanded her so emphatically 
never to let this precious gift pass from her hands. 
Thou must have been very well acquainted with her, 
dear child, and she must think a great deal of thee, 
that she could trust it with thee. Assuredly she did this 
only that I might the more readily believe in thee, and 
the tidings thou bringest of her must of a truth be very 
important” 

“ She gave it not to stranger hands, dear father,” 
now cried Rosa, “see, I am Rosa, thy daughter.” 

“ Thou ! ” cried Edelbert astonished. “ Oh, do not 
deceive me ! My daughter was, what her name im- 
plies — a blooming rose — and thou — thou art not ! ” 
Rosa had, before going to her father, very carefully 
removed from her face, with soap and water, the dis- 


86 


BOSA VON TANNENBUEG. 


figuring brown color. She now took the bright little 
oil lamp out of the dusky lantern, and lo ! her soft, 
pure face was lovelier and prettier than her father had 
ever seen it, white and rosy like a tender lily in the 
purple glow of morning, or in the reflex hue of a sister 
rose. Her brown curls waved in ringlets around her 
head, and tears glistened in her eyes, while with the 
tender mercy of an angel, she smiled on him. 

“Eosa, thou ? ” cried the father beside himself while 
the golden chain feU from his hands. “ Thou here ? 
Oh, come to my ai’ms ! Oh, now that I have thee again, 
this strong fortress of heavy square stones may crash 
together. I care not.” 

He clasped her in his arms and moistened her face 
with his tears, while she wept long upon his neck. 

‘‘ Father ! father ! dearest father ! ” was all she could 
sa3^ 

“ But tell me dearest Kosa,” said the father, “ how* 
earnest thou here, reveal this secret to me, what terri- 
ble fate has degraded my Rosa into becoming the com- 
monest servant, the maid of the lowest servant in this, 
castle ? ” 

Rosa related to her father her whole history — how* 
kindly she was taken care of by the honest charcoal- 
burner in the forest ; how troubled she had always 
been about her father ; how she had conceived the 
thought of disguising herself as a charcoal-burner’s 
daughter and entering the service of the warden, in 
order to get to him again ; and how painfully she had 
longed for this moment; 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


87 


‘^And now,” she concluded, “God has heard my 
prayer, fulfilled my most heart-felt wish, and vouch- 
safed me the opportimity, best of fathers, of seing thee 
often, of speaking with thee, of sharing with thee, now 
and then, better fare, and of doing thee all kinds of 
little services. Oh, I am the happiest of daughters ; 
my whole life shall be a fervent thanksgiving prayer ! 

The father looked up towards heaven and wept. 
“Ah,’’ said he, “not the hap];)iest but the best of 
daughters thou art and I am the happiest father. 
How often I have groaned beneath my hard fate, which 
forced me to exchange the golden chain for the iron ! 
But now I thank Thee, Oh God, for this providence ! 
Without this I should never have learned fully to know 
my daughter’s heart. I remember how happy I was 
when the Emperor hung this golden chain around my 
neck, now laden with the iron chain, which has dong 
since sorely galled my arm, I am hap23ier, I feel it no 
longer, and I would not give this moment, in which I 
embrace thee, for all the treasures of the world. Yes,’’ 
said he, as he cast a contemptuous glance at the golden 
chain which still lay upon the floor, “ what is gold ? 
Nothing when compared with virtue and happiness. 
But stop, I do the souvenir an injustice, not because 
it is coined out of genuine gold, but because the beau- 
tiful emblems and sentences upon it declare the pure 
uncompromised trath. Yes, dearest Rosa, just now in 
us, they are being fulfilled. God’s eye watched over 
thee. He preserved thee and led thee again spotless 
and pure to my arms. He whose vision no wall can 


BOSA VON TANNENBURO. 


intercept, looked into my prison and pitied my misery. 
He prepared for us these heavenly moments and in the 
midst of the frightful dtmgeon, God is with us. This 
Knight meant to be against us, but he was only an in- 
strument in the hand of the Almighty to prepare this 
joy for me. In the Cross is healing, and through 
suffering God leads to the most ennobling joy. This 
I have long felt and now experience. 

“Kunerich may, when drinking and dancing and 
revelling thi’ough nights of intoxicating music, think 
me in the highest degree miserable, but let the blasts 
of the trumpet and the shouts of the drunkard resound 
through my dungeon cell, as I have often, at midnight, 
had to hear it. . I would not exchange with him. I am 
happier down here in this damp prison with bread and 
water, than he is, above there, in the sumptuous halls 
of the castle, partaking of costly wines from golden 
goblets and choice viands from silver plates, for the 
chain has not yet been smelted which can fetter the 
free spirit and withold it from soaring up to God to 
seek and find its happiness in Him. O, my Eosa, it is 
well for thee that thou hast early experienced what 
crosses and suffering are ; that thou, in hours of night, 
which others are spending in games, dancing, and 
revelling, wouldst rather seek out tby dear suffering 
father in prison. Through suffering wilt thou be pre- 
served from the dangers of vice and learn early to 
know the beauty of virtue. O, Rosa, Rosa, remain 
hence forward, good. Keep close to God, follow all 
His commandments like the fifth. Be true to God, 


89 


RQSA, VON, TANNENBURÖ, 


conquer vice by faith in the Cnicified One, despise the 
false show of the world, and thou wilt be happier than 
if thou wert lifted up to the first throne of Europe.” 

Eosa, deeply moved, gave her father her hand as a 
pledge, extinguished her oil lamp and hurried away, 
for just then the horn of the watchman, on the tower, 
announced the break of day. 



90 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBG. 


CHAPTEE Xn. 

Rosa being now, to all appearance, transformed again 
into the brown charcoal-burner’s daughter, seated her^ 
self at table with the warden’s wife and children, but 
had scarcely begun to partake of the morning soup, 
when Knight Kunerich stepped into the room wholly 
imexpected and in a violent, impetuous manner. Rosa 
was no little frightened. Never since she entered into 
service here, had the Knight come into the warden’s 
room. What else could she think than that she had 
been detected or discovered. 

Kunerich said in commanding tones : ‘‘ Henceforth 
you will have nothing to do with the castle gate. I 
will give it into the care of four of my soldiers. You 
will both resign the place and repair to the castlo 
kitchen to assist there, for. to day and to-morrow I 
expect many guests. ” 

Knight Kunerich had noticed how violently frighten- 
ed Rosa was, but attributing her fear to the excessive 
reverence she entertained for him, he smiled in a not 
imfriendly manner, and looked at her for the first time 
since she had been at Fichtenburg, for there was no- 
thing he liked better than to have people evince fear 
and terror at his august presence. Rosa went with the 
warden’s wife to the appointed work, and about midday 
a neighboring Knight arrived with a long retinue. On 
the following day came another lord, also accompanied 


EOSA VON TANNENBUEO. 


91 


by many horsemen, and nearly every hour many people- 
advanced to Fichtenburg, some on foot, some on horse. 
Not only was the special castle building, in which 
Kunerick lived, full of soldiers, but all the other build- 
ings which aurrounded the spacious castle grounds 
were put into use. They lighted great fires at evening^ 
in the Court j^ard and cooked and ate and drank, and 
kept up a great carousing. 

Rosa knew well what all this meant. And 
sure enough, one evening late, just as she was giving 
the two children their supper, the guard’s wife entered 
the room, deathly pale, and cried as she clasped her 
hands above her head. 

“ O, children, pray ; war has begun. Your father, 
who had to call together the people, and who has just- 
come home, must go with them also, and to-morrow at 
the very earliest hour they are to depart.’^ 

On the following morning, before day light, the blast 
for departure was sounded. The warden, who was one- 
of the Knight’s bravest soldiers, was already equipped 
and in his heavy suit of iron armour, with sword belted 
around him, a brazen helmet on his head, and lance in 
hand, he took leave of his family. 

Mother and children wept, and Rosa wept with them 
as heartily as though she, too, were his daughter. He 
exhorted them to pray every day for him. 

“You, too, good Rosa, pray for me,” said he, “that 
I may again see my wife and children.’’ 

The stranger Knights, all splendidly equipped, the 
cavalry, the infantry, with long pikes, marched orderly 


92 


ROSA TON TANNBNBUBÖ. 


out of the gate and over the drawbridge. Kunerick 
was the last one of the train. After all had passed 
through he delivered the gate key to the old castellan 
saying : 

“ You, trusty old servant, see that this key be in 
your custody day and night, unless, you, yourself, and 
at least two of my soldiers, remain as garrison, no one 
shall be allowed either to come in or to go out,, or you 
answer for it with your old grey head.” 

He then put spurs to his horse, sprang after the 
others, and immediately the drawbridge was raised and 
the postern closed and barred. 

Kosa and the warden’s wife had, throughout the day, 
a great deal of work to do in the castle kitchen. Such 
as cleaning and setting the things to rights again. At 
evening the woman said to Rosa : 

“To-mori’ow morning I am going to take my two 
children and pay a visit to my old mother, for my head 
is all weary from the tumult of war, and my heart sore- 
ly tried by the parting. This visit will cheer me a 
little. I will not be home until late in the evening, as 
the distance is rather great for the children. All day 
long you can rest also, as you have nothing to do with 
the gate key. Only do not forget the prisoner’s meals, 
and take care to have a good supper for us when we 
return.” 

Early in the morning, by sun rise, she and the 
childi’en went away. 

Who was now happier than Rosa ! She had no 
thought of rest Hm’ing the past days she had not 


BOSA VON TANNENBUEO. 


93 


been able to see her father longer than an instant at 
the time, because she had so much work to do. 

Now, however, far beyond what she could have dared 
to hope, she was permitted to devote an entire day to. 
him. She had long ago thought it all over and was 
already prepared to mitigate his misery. First of alii 
she had been careful to provide for him a fresh, whito 
linen. In the few hours she could spare from her hard 
work, often by sewing till midnight, she had made 
some shirts for her father, of the fine linen, which the 
charcoal-burner’s wife had given her. So, also, had 
she knit some socks of the yam which she spun herself. 
She now hastened to her father, and gave him the new 
shirts and socks. She put a large utensil of warm 
water in his cell together with soap and towels, and 
gave him the key to unfasten and lay aside his chains. 

To the good Ebelbert, who loved cleanliness of all 
things, this was a great comfort for which he had 
long sighed in vain. 

I feel regenerated,” said he, when Rosa returned 
to remove the bathing materials. 

^*Now thou must once again, take some fresh air 
dearest father ! ” said she. 

There was a narrow little door that opened out 
from the dark passage-way leading to the dungeon, 
into a pleasant little garden which was used by the 
Burgomaster, and which Rosa kept in very nice order. 
Thither she conducted her father. The morning was 
incomparably lovely. The sun shone warm and de- 
licious ; the wind blew gently and refreshingly. It 


EOSA VON TANNENBUEG. 


seemed to the Baron as he stepped from the dark 
gloomy dungeon into God’s free air and the blessed 
sunlight, as though he was entering heaven. 

‘Oly God,” said he, if one’s sensation after death 
is so delightful as this, how gladly would one die.” 

Rosa served his breakfast which, consisted of nour- 
ishing meat-soup, out under a wallnut tree that stood 
in one comer of the garden, near the watch tower, to 
which spot she had brought a table and a bench. She 
said he could spend the whole day in the open air. 
^‘Gladly, dearest father, would I remain with thee, the 
entire day, if I had not so many things, of great impor- 
tance, to do, but I will look after thee often !” 

She hurried away, but he walked, up and down, in 
the long denied, blessed sunlight that he might richly 
drink in the delights of this glorious mornmg. The 
warm beams cheered his heart, and at the same time 
revivified him. He thanked God with tearful eyes, 
ior the sun — and still more for the love of his good 
daughter. 

“ Love is the true sun in the spirit world,” said he, 

that warms and quickens all ; without it this world 
would be a dai’k, sad prison house.” 

Rosa, who had brought her father a good dinner, and 
had visited him for only a few moments, some ten times, 
perhaps, throughout the day, came now, at evening, to 
conduct him — ah, with what a heavy heart, back to 
the prison! But how astounded he was when he 
stepped in! He thought Rosa had made a mistake, 
a4d instead of his cell had taken him to one of the 


ROSA VOX TANNENBrRG. 


95 


looms of the castle. The walls and ceilings which 
before looked black-grey, like oak-bark, were now 
white washed and, owing to the warm day, were already 
perfectly dry. 

Tlie dull tile floor was cleaned and strewed with 
white sand whichgave it a reddish appearance, “almost 
as i)retty,” said Rosa, “as fine white gauze over rose 
color.” 

Rubbish and nettles were removed from the win- 
dow, and the beautiful blue sky gleamed through 
the transparently clear window-panes. There was 
fresh straw on the bed, over which was spread a 
white linen sheet. She had provided also a pillow 
as there was none, heretofore, over which she had 
drawn a fresh case. A piece of new thick carpet 
of pure wool served as covering. On the table, with 
its cover of spotless vrhite, stood a bowl full of 
beautiful, fragrant flowers. The damp dungeon air 
had vanished and the sweet fragrance of flowers 
filled the prison cell. 

“Oh, how nuch joy thou givest me,” said Edelbert, 
“Truly the love of a child can strew the life path of 
the parents with flowers. Love can turn a g’oomy 
prison into a Paradise. But,” continued he, as he 
looked at the clean, white ceiling and walls — “ it was 
impossible for thee to do all of this alone. Who, in 
this hostile Burg, can be so kind as to help thee ?” 

Rosa said: “There is, in this Burg, an old soldier 
who was, in his youth a mason, and who, now and then, 
makes use of his trade. Last week he was sick a few 


96 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBG, 


days. The warden’s wife sent him often, at my re- 
quest, such food as was suitable for a sick person. I 
carried it to him and when I had time I would sit by 
his bedside and talk with him. He spoke once, of 
course, not knowing that I was your daughter, with 
great reverence and heartfelt pity of you. He said he 
had fought in that battle, which was well nigh lost 
through Kunerich, but which through you, was won — 
and that he was sorely wounded and left upon the 
battle-field and would have died had you not assisted 
him. Yesterday evening I begged him, very timidly^ 
to help me put your dreadful cell in better order. I 
thought he would raise objections, but he praised my 
design very much and undertook the greater part of 
the work with pleasure. “K Kunerich perceives it 
I care not,” he said, “he cannot object to my honor- 
ing the Knighthood.” 

Edelbert said, “I don’t remember at all having 
shown him any kindness, but the gratitude of the man 
moves me greatly. Thou canst see, by this, dearest 
Rosa, how the good, that we have long ago forgotten, 
may, after many years, still produce its results.” 

Rosa now brought supper. “To-day we will eat 
together, once again, dearest father.” She had brought 
a chair and sat down by him . The meal was meagre 
but nicely prepared. It was Rosa’s happiness to set 
before her father his favorite dishes; some soup of 
pearl barley, a few roast partridges with endive salad ; 
and for supper, a plate full of red, boiled lobster, dain- 
tily surrounded by celery leaves. She set before her 


BOSA VON TANNENBURÖ. 


97 


father, who had, heretofore, had nothing but water 
and coarse bread, a bottle of wine and some very nice 
bread. 

“But, in the name of Heaven, dearest Rosa,” said 
her father, as he glanced aj the table and bed, “ where, 
in thy poverty, didst thou obtain all of this ?” 

Rosa said the charcoal-burner’s wife had given her 
the linen and Agnes had brought her, yesterday, the 
partridges and lobsters ; the other little things she had 
bought with her salary and with the money which 
visitors had given her when she opened the postern 
for them. That she had taken her own pillow from 
under her head andgiven it to her father, the good 
daughter did not mention. 

The noble father was extremely gratified. “I have 
eaten, at the Emperor’s table,” said he, “but never be- 
fore, have I so enjoyed and been so refreshed, by any 
meal ! God will reward thee for thy love, dear Rosa.” 

But Rosa felt even happier. She had never, in her 
life, experienced such bliss, as in this hour when she 
could thus entertain her father. She literally experi- 
enced that “it is more blessed to give than to receive.” 
“Oh, how happy the rich could be if they knew that ! ” 
said she — “How blessed could children be who are 
rich enough to do a great deal of good to their par- 
ents ! They must have a heaven, already, upon earth.” 

Rosa had now to return to her work, and cook for 
the warden’s wife and children. She hurried qui{ kly 
out of the door after wishing her father good night. 
But the feeling of paternal pride in the possession of 


98 


BOSA YOIJ TANNENBUBG. 


sucli a daughter kept him awake some time — •when, 
finally, he fell asleep ; his slumber 'was more gentle 
and refreshing than ever before in his life. Rosa now 
ministered to her father everyday. In the morning, 
she brought, him together T^ith his little piece of dry 
bread, a glass of fresh milk, or a couple of soft boiled 
eggs, or some golden yellow butter, upon a green 
vine leaf, and she gave him, as often as she could do so 
without being discovered, her own good, strong soup 
for dinner, and took in preference his weak, mean 
broth. She often ate nothing at night, and even car- 
ried to her father, the little piece of roast meat which 
she got on Sundays, or the little piece of cake •w'hich 
was sometimes given her. From time to time, she 
put fresh flowers in the prison of which he was very 
fond, and brought him the fruit which she here and 
there obtained. She had gotten the coal-buiner to 
sell her only remaining ornament, a pair of gold ear- 
ings, set with precious stones, which she wore at the 
time her father w^as taken captive, so that she might, 
with the proceeds, purchase many necessary things for 
her father, especially, a goblet of good -wine every day 
which was of great benefit to him ; she lived entirely 
for him. Once, when the jailor came home from the 
Army, on business, he looked after the prisoners, and 
was no little astonished when he opened the door of 
Edelbert’s celL He shook his head saying : 

‘‘ Knight Kunerich must not see this, else I, too, will 
be put in such a cell with little grated -windows which, 
of a truth, would not look as cheerful as this. Other- 


K03A VON TANNEN^UKG. 


99 


ivise, I am very well pleased with everything. But 
what is more beautiful than cleanliness ? A few hand- 
fuls of lime and sand, with a little trouble and work, 
have transformed this gloomy prison into a clean, 
bright room — while many a one, thi-ough laziness and 
rmcleanness, makes his room a dark dungeon.” 

But outside, in the passage, the wai-den said very 
earnestly — 

“Bosa, Bosa ! I will rot censure your tenderheart- 
uess towards the Knight. I believe that you do h:m 
many a good service, and I will also let that pass. 
Only do not allow j^our sympathy to induce you to 
help him to escape. He would never succeed truly * 
for the castle is too well provided against such an at- 
tempt ,with its locks and bolts and its drawbridge. But 
even the attempt could make me miserable. I would 
be deprived of office and sustenance, and would be, 
with wife and children, driven out of this fort. My 
master, in his his rage under such circumstances, 
would be ready to kill me, for I have pledged him 
my head that the prisoners are well guarded. So do 
not make me wretched, and put my life in danger.” 

Bosa had to give him the sacred promise, and he 
went away. 




100 


EOSA VON TANNENBUEG. 


CHAPTEK Xin. 

While Edelbert found such comfort in the childlite 
love of his daughter, and Rosa the greatest happiness 
in her father’s contentment, much else had occurred at 
Eichtenburg. Knight Kunerich’s Castle had hereto- 
fore been the seat of peace, but now that sorrow, which 
barred gates and drawbridges cannot keep out, had 
taken its lodging in yon splendid rooms. The news 
from the war, which Kunerich had undertaken in a 
spirit of bravado, with a very powerful knight, was not 
at all favorable. Kunerich was wounded, his entire 
ordinance train plundered, and he himself nearly cap 
tured. He lay sick and suffering in a distant castle, 
and instead of sending wagons full of booty to his 
castle, as was his wont, they had to send him money 
and provision. His wife could not even visit him, be- 
cause she had no soldiers under whose escort she could 
travel, and she dared not venture from the castle, 
knowing, as she did quite well, that it was not love, but 
only fear, which made people around respectful to her 
husband. 

Kuneridi’s enemies were wholly aroused and were 
ready for open hostilities. They had akeady, on 
several occasions, carried off the best of the provisions 
which had been procured in the neighboring country 
tor the use of the castle, so that the wife and her 
children had to be satisfied with quite ordinary fare, 


BOSA VON TANNENBTJBÖ. 


101 


and dispense with many things altogether. The child- 
ren took small-pox, and there was, for a long time, 
doubt ,of their recovery. Finally, the lady, through 
sorrow, care, and sleeplessness, fell ill herself. Rosa 
had heard of all these occurrences, even to the smallest 
detail, from the loquacious wife of the warden, for she 
herself went extremely seldom into these upper rooms 
and halls of the castle, occupied by Kunerich and his 
family ; in fact, she never entered them, save at the 
express command of her mistress, whom she dared not 
disobey. 

At every step she took, her repugnance would in 
crease, and she would huiTy as fast as possible down 
the stone stairs again. A pang had gone to her heart 
every time she had seen the Knight or any of his 
family, for a deep aversion had unconsciously gained 
footing in her inmost soul, not only against Kunerich, 
who had so cruelly wronged her father and robbed him 
of property and freedom, but also against Kunerich’s 
wife and children. 

Rosa told her father how things now stood, up in the 
castle, and a scarcely perceptible smile flitted across 
her countenance as she spoke of it, and she said, 

“Now she, too, can learn by deepest experience 
what misery is ; now let her pride learn how to bend 
itself. The wife of this Knight, who always lived in 
splendor and superfluity, dressed her children most 
superbly, and was visited constantly by the most dis- 
tinguished people, will now be forced to live as alone 
and secluded as if she were in a cloister. She makes, 


102 


BOSA JOK TANNENBUBO. 


now, new acquaintances, tears and sighs, and her proud 
haughty lord, who had prepared for others so much 
sorrow, experiences the truth of the saying, ‘ With 
what measure ye mete, it shall be measui*ed to you 
again. But the noble father did not approve of 
his daughter. 

“ How, my Bosa,” said he, “ do I hear thee speak^ 
thus 1 Thy mild, gentle countenance do I see disfigur- 
ed with a malicious smile. Oh, refrain, dear child j 
these thoughts are not good ; let not resentment poison 
thy noble heart ! It is true, this Knight has done me 
a wrong, for he hated me without a cause and did me 
much evil ; but art thou such a stranger to the teach, 
ings and example of our holy Bedeemer ? Are we not 
to love those who hate us? Are we not told to return 
good for evil ? Wouldst thou have his wife also suffer 
for the evil which Kunerich did to us? She who may 
have had enough to bear with his rough ways without 
this fresh trial, and, who certainly cannot approve of 
his course towards us ! For that wliich the father has 
been guilty, wouldst thou wreak vengeance upon his 
children who are innocent, and who do not even know 
their right hand from their left ? Bosa! Bosa ! let not 
love to thy father lead thee to hate his enemy. See ! 
even I do not hate him. Yes, my God,’^ continued he, 
laying his hand on his heart and hfting his eyes to 
heaven — “ Thou knowest if I were to see this Knight 
in the peril of battle, in danger of losing his life, I would 
rush between the enemy’s sword and spear in order ta 
save his life, even should I have to sacrifice my own,. 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBG. 


lOB 

y> 

and thou Bosa, if thou wert living again in happiness 
and prosperity, and his wife and children had fallen 
into need and suffering, and begged before thy door for 
assistance, wouldst thou close, against them, heart and 
door, and allow the poor little ones and their wretched 
mother, who did us no harm, to go away from thee and 
die in their misery ? ” 

“No,” said Bosa, moved, “this I would not, could 
not do I would from my heart gladly share with 
them all I had.” 

“I doubt it,” said the father. “If thou wilt not even 
give them the smallest of gifts, a kindly glance, a good 
word, how shouldst thou give them something greater? 
As thou dost shun continually, every opportunity even 
to see them, how couldst thou find opportunity to do 
them good ? Change thy manner toward them, meet 
them with heartfelt kindness, then wilt thou, should 
occasion allow, do for them still more. I advise this, 
not according to the wisdom of men, that we may win 
our mighty enemy in whose power we are now, so that 
he may give back to us what he took from us. If we 
were friendly to them only for tliis reason, our friend- 
ship would not be of any worth. That were a miserat- 
ble fawning hypocrisy of which we should be ashamed. 
No, my dearest daughter, true love to man, that flower 
of heavenly origin, cannot spring from the unholy soil 
of self-interest, it comes only from the depths of a pure 
benevolent heart ! It is only the image and reflex of 
that divine love, which the spirit of our holy rehgion 
enjoins and which every pious heart must fulfill. God 


104 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBG. 


himself is love and He loves mankind as His children. 
He lets His sun shine upon His degenerate sons and 
daughters, and gives them dew and rain. He wishes 
that these shall become better, and that some time all 
shall be with him in heaven. To this end the Son of 
Ood gave even his life and poured out his blood to save 
them So must we, also, be the embodiment of pure 
love. We must love all mankind, do good unto them, 
and not shut out from our love the hostile wicked ones. 
We should be ready to give our life for them, we should 
love them as ourselves for our effections must lift them- 
selves up from earth to heaven, and we must not only 
love God who is merciful to all, above all else, but we 
must strive also to be like Him in His most glorious 
attribute. Only this holy love to God and men, even 
though they be our enemy, will enable us to reach 
heaven at last. A loveless soul would be unhappy, even 
in the regions of the blest. Whoever bates, öntereth 
not in, for love is the wellspring of all blessedness in 
the next world. It alone makes heaven, heaven. Even 
for this cause it is the work of our life ujion earth to 
engraft in our natures this devine love, to venture and 
bring it to perfection, like a beautiful plant. 

“ The love of worthless things, vain glory, sinful 
lusts, transient passions, leaves no room in the heart 
for heavenly love, but stifles it in the bud like shai’p 
thorns. Therefore, in order to purify our natures from 
pride, selfishness, evil propensities and worldly pleas- 
ures, God sends us afflictions. For this reason He 
probably deprived us of the splendor of our position ; 


E08A VO?^ TANNENBUEG. 


105 


of the eafrthly possessions and worldly pleasures, which 
riches procured for us ; For rest assured, dear daught- 
er, so long as God sends us trials, there is always some- 
thing in us, from which affliction, alone, can purify us. 
We will, therefore, my dearest Kosa, recognize God’s 
loving, fatherly design in this, so as not to frustrate it 
by indulging in a feeling of hatred against our offender, 
thereby depriving ourselves of the blessing which God 
prepares for us through sorrow.” 

Rosa listened to her father attentively. “ Thou art 
right, dearest father,’’ said she, looking at him with 
her eyes full of tears. “ Oh, how far am I from deserv- 
ing heaven. I will endeavor, with God’s help, to im- 
prove. I give you my solemn promise ! I will try to 
love God above all, and my fellow man, even Kunerich 
and his family, as myself ; and if suffering will make 
me more loving, I will gladly endure it as long as God 
wills. For what is this span of life, passed in suffering 
in comparison with an eternity of bliss ! ” 

Rosa kept her word faithfully. She no longer inten- 
tionally avoided the Knight’s children, who were 
now quite recovered, and who occasionally came down 
in the castle yard to play^ accompanied by their nurse ; 
she no longer affected nob to see them, but greeted 
them with a friendly smile, and beguiled them into 
dttle conversations ; she sought, in every way, to do 
them little kindnesses, and engaged Agnes to bring 
her the tame deer and pair of turtle doves, presenting 
the deer to the boy, and the doves to the little girl. 
She found the children very lovable and reproached 


106 


BOSA VON TANNENBUEG. 


herself for having hitherto behaved in so unfriendly a 
manner to these sweet little creatures. 

“I have deprived mj^self of much pleasure,” she said, 
“ my fault was at once my punishment. Oh, how right 
my father was. It is better to be friendly and forgiv- 
ing than inimical and revengeful.” 

But Kosa soon found an opportunity of fulfilling her 
father’s instructions in their widest sense. 



ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


107 


CHAPTER XIV. 

A long season of rain was succeeded by an unusually 
beautiful and delightful autumn day. The sun, which 
had risen in all its beauty, shone so brightly between 
the high walls of the castle, that all nature seemed 
renewed.. The people of the castle had ventured out 
into the fields to gather in the remains of the produce,, 
and the nurse, whose name was Thekla, had gone with 
Kunerich’s three children into the comt yard. In the 
midst of the large and spacious enclosure, there was a 
splendid well. It was protected by a wall of beauti- 
fuly hewn stone, and six slender colunms supported the 
high peaked roof which was decorated very artistically, 
after the style of the ancient Minster towers, with all 
kinds of stone ornaments. The well was of quite an 
unusual depth and required nearly a quarter of an hour 
to let down and draw up the one enormous bucket by 
means of the windlass attached to it. Strangers, of 
whom many visited the Burg, admired the well as the 
greatest curiosity of the castle, and in order to give 
them some idea of its tremendous depth, small pebbles 
were thrown down, to the unfailing astonishment of 
the observer, who was justly amazed to see how long it 
was before the fall of the stone was heard. Then plac- 
ing a burning light in the bucket, they would let it 
down, and it was wonderful to see how beautifully the 
light üluminated the surrounding walls in which, here 


108 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBG. 


and there, a little green herb had nestled, and how it 
was reflected in every drop of water on the stones, shin- 
ing, at last, in the darkness beneath like a crimson star. 
The masons, whose duty it was, from time to time, to 
clean out or repair the well, always used a number of 
ladders, which they fastened upon hooks that were 
placed, at intervals, along the walls. There was an old 
tradition that before the well was provided with its 
present roof, whoever looked down into its dark depths 
at midday, would see the stars ghstening in the blue 
heavens. It was surrounded by a large grass plot 
which presented a very attractive appearance in the 
3)aved court and which was encircled by a row of /Ser- 
vice Trees* 

The three children were now playing on the green 
sward around the well. The httle girls, Itha and 
Emma, were highly dehghted at the a];)pearance of the 
beautiful, bright scarlet berries of the trees, which 
were now lipe. Thekla had to break off several clus- 
ters, and they began very busily to string the berries 
upon threads, calhng them their strings of coral. 
They decorated — not without a certain precocious maid- 
enly vanity — their necks and arms, and were quite 
proud of these novel ornaments. 

Eberhard, the boy, amused himself by throwing peb- 
l^les into the well, selecting the largest he could find, 
.and listening attentively as the' stone plashed into the 
water, when he danced for joy. Becoming, after a 

* A kind of tree and its fruit, of the “ genus Pyrus ” or “ Sor- 
The wild Service is of the genus Cratcelgus. 


BOSA YON TANNENBUEO. 


109^ 


while, tired of this play, he turned away from the well, 
when a little bhd came flying by, perched itself upon 
the edge of the bucket, and presently flew in to drink 
or bathe itself. The boy saw the bii'd fly on the 
bucket, and said in his childish simplicity, to his two 
little sisters : 

“ I can catch the bird easily. Now pay attention ; 
tliis will be splendid fun.” 

He then climbed up on the edge of the well, and 
stretched his little arm after the bucket ; but finding 
that it was far too short, he leaned still further over,, 
lost his balance, and fell into the frightful abyss. The 
two little girls near the well raised a piteous cry of 
distress and Thekla, the nurse, who had slipped into 
the kitchen to pilfer some dainty, rushed, terrified, to 
the spot. She heard, contrary to all expectation, the 
boy screaming and crying in the well, and looking down, 
saw that he was hanging, far below, by a portion of his 
clothing, on one of the hooks in the wall. But there 
she stood, not knowing what to do, and Kunerich^s 
wife lay sick in bed unable to leave her room, whilst 
the other people belonging to the castle were still in the 
field. The trembling, deathly pale nurse wrung her 
hands in despair and implored God and all the saints 
for help. At this moment, Rosa came on the scene. 
She had been obhged to stay home because the ward- 
en’s little girl had been taken ill the night before and 
was thought to have the small-pox. 

“ Oh, quick,” said Rosa to Thekla ; '‘help me to get 
into the bucket and then carefully let me down ; with 
God’s help I hope to save the boy !” 


110 


ROSA VON TANNENBÜRO. 


Rosa, mth a trustful look towards heaven, cora- 
jmended herself to God’s protection, and stepped into 
the bucket. Shudder after shudder pervaded her 
frame as she descended, deeper and deeper. The damp 
cold air of the well blew chillingly over her, the sun 
seemed to be extinguished, and it became gradually 
■dai'ker around her ; at last she reached the weeping boy, 
and cried out from the depths, “halt,’^ and the bucket 
stood motionless. She hastily endeavored to take the 
boy in her arms and unfasten his clothing from the 
hook ; but that was very difficult, and in the highest 
degree dangerous, as she could not entirely free both 
arms, being obliged to hold 'on to the chain with one 
hand, in order to prevent herself from falling into the 
abyss. /Slie failed in her attempt, and an inexpressible 
anxiety took possession of her, which caused the cold 
perspiration to break out upon her brow. From the 
horrible dark depths she lifted up her heart in fervent 
supplication to God that he would not abandon her in 
this her extremest hour of need. 

At last she succeeded. She took the boy in her 
arms, and he clasped both little arms tightly around her 
neck, as if he feared even yet he would fall, whilst 
she cried out, “ draw Thekla noticed the ad- 

ditional weight of the bucket, and proceeded hur- 
riedly to draw it up. In the meantime the sick mother 
had been attracted to the window by the outcry in the 
court, and with a pang of fear, which seemed to strike 
her like a flash of lightning, she heard from the cry- 
ing children in the yard the words “ Eberhard has 


EOSA VON TANNENBURG. 


Ill 


fallen into the well.” That terrible cry resounded in 
her ears like a peal of thunder. The poor woman, pale 
as death, was forced to support herself on the window 
sill, her knees gave way under her, her hands trembled 
and she could not stir from the spot. It seemed as if 
the beating of her heart would burst her breast 
asunder. Thekla cried to her that Eberhard remained 
hanging on a hook on the wall, and that the servant of 
the warden’s wife was trying to rescue him. Then a 
faint ray of hope kindled in her heart. She began to 
pray, and altho’ her voice failed her, from the depths 
of her heart she sent up an inaudible prayer to God to 
save her first-born, her only son, keeping her eyes 
meanwhile immovably fixed on the welL Finally Bosa 
appeared, holding with one arm the boy (who nestled 
to her as closely as though he were sleeping) whilst 
with the other she grasped the chain. Wlien the 
bucket had been drawn up sufficiently high, leaving 
Bosa with the child in her arms swinging in the centre 
of the open mouth of the abyss, Thekla secured the 
windlass, stepped to the edge of the well and drew the 
bucket to her with a hook designed for the purpose. 
She endeavored to take the boy in her arms, but the 
weak and still trembling girl had neither the strength 
nor dexterity to hold the bucket firmly and at the 
same time to transfer the boy from Bosa’s arms to her 
own. She tried for some time, but in vain. This was 
a fearful sight to the mother, for every moment she 
expected to see all three fall into the abyss. 

Seeing that they were not likely to succeed in this 


112 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


way, Rosa motioned Thekla to let the bucket go again, 
then tried to pass the boy over to her, but although 
Thekla reached over as far as she could with widely 
outstretched hands, still she failed, by a short distance 
each time to reach him. 

The mother at the window could no longer look 
upon this painful scene. Everything became dark 
before her eyes. She endeavored to cry as loudly as 
her feeble strength would permit, “Oh, not so, not so,” 
but Rosa failed to catch the words. She herself how- 
ever had perceived that this was a dangerous mode of 
procedure and remained silent for a while lost in 
thought, with her eyes lifted to heaven. Then she 
said quickly : 

“ Thekla, push the bucket gently with the hook, so 
that it may swing backwards and forwards in the wide 
opening of the well.” 

Thekla obeyed without knowing how this was to help 
matters. 

“Now,” said Rosa, “when the bucket swings towards 
you, catch the child swiftly and firmly in both arms. 
Wait, however, until I give you the word — see — now, 
note.” 

Thekla took the child in her arms with little trouble, 
placed him upon the ground, then offered Rosa her 
hand to help her out. But she said : 

“ You had better push the bucket so that it will 
swing near that column. ” 

Thekla did so^ and as the swinging bucket came near 
the column, she clasped it, stepped on the edge of 


BOSA VON TANNENBTJBÖ. 


m 


the well and sprang to the ground. Oh, how glad 
she was to feel the firm ground beneath her feet 
once more, How she rejoiced in the bright sunshine 
and blue sky. Sinking upon her knees she looked up 
to God, who had saved herself and the child. “ Grac- 
ious God, to Thee be all praise,” was her first thought. 
“ How thankful my father will be. How pleased with 
his Rosa,” was her second. She hastened immedi- 
ately to carry to him the joyful news of the rescue of 
the child. He embraced her with tears of the sweet- 
est joy that ever the eyes of a father shed. 

“Thou hast gained the greatest of victories,” said 
he. Thou hast conquered self, and done good to thine 
enemy. Thou hast accomplished a more heroic action 
then that of the bravest knight who stretches his pow- 
erful enemy dead before him, thou hast saved a human 
life. But do not be proud, dearest Rosa, it was God 
who gave thee the opportunity and the courage. To 
Him alone belongs the honor.” 


114 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBQ. 


CHAPTER XV. 

Meantime Thekla had carried the rescued boy to his 
mother, who, losing at the moment all consciousness of 
suffering, rushed to him, clasped him in both arms, 
bathed him in hot tears of joy, and asking him a hun- 
dred times if he is’ not hurt. Ha was uninjured but 
looked still pale from terror. Falling on her knees and 
clasping the boy in her arms she cried — 

“Thou, Oh God, hast given him back to me, and I 
■will consecrate him to Thy service.” 

She rose from her knees, sat down on the bed with 
the boy upon her lap and said — 

“ O thou naughty child what anguish thou hast occa 
sioned me by thy thoughtlessness. How often have j 
forbidden thee to go to the well, and to climb trees, and 
charged thee to keep away from horses. See, thy dis. 
obedience had neai'ly cost thee thy life. What would 
thy father have said if I had lost thee in such a manner^ 
Oh henceforth, be more obedient. Through what a 
miracle hast thou been given back to me. Thank God^ 
who hast saved thee by his angel. But the angel that 
rescued thee, is the poor daughter of the charcoal-burn- 
er,” said she, looking around her. “Is she not here^ 
the good child ? Go, Thekla, seek her, hasten, let her 
come here, that I may thank her. This act shall not 
remain unrewarded.” 

Thekla hastened to the warden’s room, where she 


KOSA. VON TANNENBURG. 


115 


found Rosa already seated by the bed of the sick child 
knitting/’ 

“Come,” cried Thekla — “you must come this mo- 
ment to the gracious lady. Be happy, you are going to 
be well paid, surely.” 

The wm'd “payment” grated upon Rosa’s tender 
sensibilities. She had no deshe to go, and wished still 
less to be rewarded. However, she thought if she re- 
fused the invitation, it would seem unfriendly and would 
grieve the hapj^y mother, — so she went. Modestly, and 
with cvimson cheeks, she entered the room. The gra- 
cious lady who was seated by the sleeping boy, hu3Tied 
towards her with open arms, and forgetting her rank, 
pressed the maiden, clad as she was in coarse woollen 
garments, tenderly to her heart. 

“Oh, my daughter,” said she, “hov/ many thanks do 
I owe thee ? -What a noble action thou hast performed. 
From what sudden anguish hast thou spared me ! What 
unutterable joy hast thou given me. If it had not been 
for thee, the sweet boy, who lies now slumbering so 
softly on his bed, would be lying, cold and dead, in the 
depth '.of yonder well. Thou hast snatched my child 
from death and given him back to me, henceforth, 
therefore, shalt thou be treated as one of my children, 
and shalt find in me a true mother. Remain with me. 
As regards yourself, however,” said she, turning to 
Thekla, gravely, but gently, and with no appearance of 
anger, “you, I can no 1 nger retain in my service, you 
have badly performed the easy duty which should be 
sacred to every nurse, that of never allowing the child 


116 


EOSA VON TANNENBURG. 


to be out of your sight ; you were on the eve of becom- 
ing, from a child’s protectress a child’s murdei ess. I 
will pay you, to-da\, your wages, and to-morrow you 
must quit the castle.” 

Thekla wept and sighed and begged for mercy and 
forgiveness, and falling on her knees she pleaded that 
as a poor orphan she did not know where to go, and 
that she would certainly do better. But the lady said, 
“ you have often promised me this and failed to keep 
your word, and I have lost all confidence in you. It 
grieves me much to discharge you, but I cannot, in 
order to please you, expose my children, constantly to 
the perils of death. Go, therefore, and behave in your 
future service more wisely.” 

Bosa here said : “ Allow me, gracious lady, to speak 
a word for Thekla, and do hot be offended at my bold- 
ness. It is true, and you are perfectly right, Thekla 
was in fault, her thoughtlessness occasioned your 
mother-heart a deadly anguish and nearly cost your son 
his life, but unfortunately she did not think of this be- 
fore, and she will now take the f . ightful occurrence as a 
warning, and will, assm-edl}’, never behave so thought- 
lessly again. And did Thekla do nothing mo e than 
err ? Did she not earnestly endeavor to atone for her 
wrong ? Did she not faithfully help — yes, aid, as you 
saw yourself, even risk her life to save your son ? And 
shall only her fault be remembered, and nothing be 
said of her faithful aid ? Would you drive from you, 
without mercy, one who, in the recovery of j’^our son, 
has shown herself such a good and faithful soul? See, 


• ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


117 


Ood has just granted your prayer, do not despise in tlie 
same hour, the prayer and entreaties of a suffering one. 
God has shown mercy to you, now show mercy unto 
others. God has given your beloved child back to 3 "OU, 
do not deprive a poor forsaken orphan of her kind 
protectress. 

“ God Himself forgives the penitent one who earn- 
estly endeavors to improve, can you not forgive also ? 
God gives you a splendid opportunity to show, by this 
act, the gratitude due Him, by forgiving the deeply- 
grieved Thekla and restoring her again to favor. Oh, 
how Thekla and I rejoiced over the happy rescue of 
the child, and what tears of joy we wept with you ; will 
you then, the happiest amongst us, (for what exceeds 
a mother’s joy), be the one to render a fellow-creatare 
wretched, through your inexorableness? Can you» 
upon whose cheek the tears of joy are scarcely dry, 
cause the poor Thekla to shed drops of bitter anguish, 
without at once wiping these tears gently away ? No, 
you could not do it, gentle lady. As regards myself, 1 
cannot accept the offered situation, 1 would be afraid of 
the sin of having driven away this poor servant from her 
place, and having built my happiness upon a stranger’s 
misfortune.” 

The lady looked at the supposed charcoal-burner’s 
-child with astonished eyes. 

“In truth,” said she, “I do not know which to ad- 
mire most, your heroism or your noble sentiments» 
"Who could withstand such an intercession? Thekla 
shall not lose her j)lace, but you must remain with me. 


118 


BOSA VON TANNENBUKG. 


I will not allow you to go from me — wondrous girl, I 
had almost said. To reward you adequately is a thing 
beyond my power, for my lord is far from here, and I 
am shut up in this castle like a poor prisoner. I hope, 
however, that the day will come when my husband shall 
return from the field, and reward you richly himself. 
Meantime give up your service to the warden’s wife 
and be my daughter, my companion, my friend. I will 
cause you to be suitably clothed, for you are born for 
something better than for menial service.’^ 

Kosa was deeply moved by the manner of the gentle, 
kind lady, who had received her with such indescribable 
sweetness, and who had pardoned the repentant Thekla. 
She felt a sincere esteem for her, and would willingly 
have remained with her, but she thought of her father, 
whom she would then be imable to visit, and who 
would be given over to strange hands. She was unde- 
cided whether to divulge the secret that she was Edel- 
bert^s daughter, and wished first to ask her father’s 
advice. She therefore said, “ forgive me that I can- 
not accept this offer either, although I acknowl- 
edge your kindness with thanks. In the first place, 
it is better when we have accomplished, with God’s 
help, something good on earth, not to take any 
thanks, our reward awaits us in heaven. In 
the second place, I am so content and happy in my 
present situation that I have no longing after another 
place. It is not the position that ennobles one, but 
the way we fulfill our duties and bear the trials of our 
position. As the servant of the jailor, I have my op- 


BOSA VON TANNENBUKG. 


119 


portimities of doing little kindnesses to the prisoners, 
and in so doing find my happiness. Do not, therefore, 
through your kindness, deprive me of this pleasure.” 

“ Strange child,” said the lady, “ I do not understand 
you; your talk about happiness in the warden’s dark 
room, and your unhappiness here with me seems 
strange ; is there then no way in my power by which I 
can render you a service 1 Ask what you will, and I 
will promise it you upon my honor ; it shall, if possible 
be granted you.” 

“ Well, then,” said Rosa, “ I take you at your word. 
Give me as much time for consideration as I find neces- 
sary to think what I shall ask you. I think it will not 
be long before you can be the means of procuring me a 
great happiness. But pardon me that I must now go. 
I dare not leave the warden’s sick child longer alone.** 

She went, hurriedly, out of the room. 



120 


^ EOSA VOK TANNENBUEG. 


CHAPTEK XVI 

The lady Hildegard von Fichtenhurg was as highly 
distinguished for nobihty of character as for intellect- 
ual capacity. She knew how to appreciate Bosa’s su- 
perior worth, feeling as she did, the most kiudly interest 
in her, she naturally wished to see her happy. But she 
failed to understand her conduct, and thought, not 
without reason, that there was something mysterious 
about her whole demeanor. She leaned her head upon 
her hand, and reflected upon the subject. “How came 
this poor charcoal burner’s maiden to have such senti- 
ments, and such ability to express them ? Where did 
she get this patrician bearing with which she entered 
the room, and which characterized her throughout? 
She was, in speaking to me, as little embarassed as 
though she had always associated with the nobility, 
and as if she had enjoyed the most careful rearing. In 
truth, all of this excites my astonishment as much as 
her heroism, thoughtfulness, and presence of mind ex- 
cties my admiration, and what can possibly be the rea- 
son that she will not remain with me always, where 
she would be far more comfortable ? There must be 
something behind all of this. Can she be doing wrong? 
Can it be a secret whose discovery would make her 
blush. “ I do not think so, still I must observe her 
closely.” First of all, she charged the Castellan to 
watch her general conduct carefully. 


KOSA VON TANNENBUEG. 


121 


He did so, and had only praiseworthy things to re- 
late. One morning, however, the obliging man brought 
the new's in hot haste, that Kosa, late at night, when 
all was sunk in profound slumber, visited the hostile 
Baron in h s c:ll, and remained for hours with him. 
“ The affair seems to me to be doubtful and dangerous, 
in the extreme st degree,” said he. “The maid may 
be the means of bringing a serious misfortune upon us, 
if she assisted the Baronet’s escape (and the fearless 
girl is not lacking in courage to do it), otherwise I do 
not know what they have to do with each other. I 
listened wdth all my might at the prison door and I 
could hear nothing, but an unintelligible munnur.” 
This was not because Edelbert and Eosa spoke par- 
cularly low, but because the old man was nearly deaf. 
The Frau von Fichtenburg was no little atonished. 
“Edelbert/’ said she “is our worst enemy, our deadly 
foe. My husband has often assured me of this, when 
I would beg him not to treat the poor Knight so harsh- 
ly. Yes, my Kmrerich has related to me so much evil 
of Edelbert, that I cannot doubt that he is in the high- 
est degree hostilely inclined towards us, and that this 
unknown girl should be on such intimate terms with 
our bitterest enemy, does not please me. I will at 
some future time hear for myself.” 

She charged the Castellan to observe wdien Eosa 
visited the Knight again, and to come quickly and 
inform her of the fact, but to tell no one else in the castle. 

In the meantime she saw Eosa, almost daily, treated 
her with extreme kindness, and made her all sorts of 


122 


KOSA VON TANNENBUKG. 


little presents. Some days after, the Castellan came to 
her at midnight and said, “Now, gracious lady.” She 
immediately threw over her a black silk mantle and 
hurried to the door of the prison. “ Truly it is not a 
very praiseworthy action I am performing,’’ — she said 
to her self, “eves-dropping is something wicked and con- 
temptible. I only do it because I have the welfare of 
the poor girl seriously at heart, and because I dare not 
lose sight of the interest of my own household.” The 
door was only aj ar and a light burned in the cells. Every 
word that was spoken was distinctly audible ; she there- 
fore listened to Edelbert’s and Kosa’s conversation. 

“The peaches are delicous” said the captive Knight. 
They are just the same kind which grew on that tree 
in our castle garden beside the tower. They were al- 
ways my favorite fruit. Beautiful to the eye is the 
fine, downy red, pungent and delightful the odor, and 
luscious and delicate in taste.” 

“O dear,’’ said Eosa, “the tears come to my eyes as 
I see these peaches. If I could only once more cull 
the lovely fruit from that tree in our garden, and biing 
it to thee, deaJr father, as I used to do, in a neat little 
basket, daintly ornamented with vine leaves ! ” 

“ Thank God, dear daughter, that thou art able to 
bring me these,” said Edelbert. “The tree scarcely 
bore ten peaches this year, didst thou say, and the 
gracious lady gave thee three of them ? She is very, 
very kind to thee.’’ 

“ That is why I always think I ought to tell her that 
I am thy daughter, I think the secret will be safe with 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


123 


her and she would be the best one to implore, 
Kuner'ch to give thee back thy liberty. “I do not 
think so,’’ said Edelbert, “ thou canst have no concep- 
tion how he hates me. The heai-t of this sweet lady 
may be as gentle and mild as these soft j)eaches here, 
but Kunerich’s heart is hard as the peach stone. Thou 
wouldst be more hkely to break the teeth than the 
stone.” 

But I think,” said Bosa, “ that when Kunerich 
hears that thy daughter, with God’s help, was the 
means of saving his son’s life, he will not allow thee to 
die in this prison. If I throw myself at his feet and 
beseech him, Oh, surely he will hear me.” 

“ Oh, do not believe that so readily,” said Edelbert, 
<‘I know him but too well, even if he finds thy act 
noble, because it happens to benefit him, even if he 
shows himself grateful towards thee, he still will not be 
able to bring himself to the point of relinguishing his 
hatred towards me. That is too deeply rooted. Sooner 
couldst thou tear up an oak tree by the roots.” 

“ But dear father,” said Rosa, “if he could only be per- 
suaded, that thou, whom he hast deprived of every 
thing, still dost love and bless him, and wouldst gladly 
do him good. . That thon hast taught me to love him 
and his, and to do them all the good in my power ; that 
without thy precious fatherly counsels I, perhaps, 
would not have hurried so quickly to the well, on hear- 
ing the childi'en’s cry, and therefore, would not have 
saved his son, and that thou art, therefore, indhectly 
the cause of his rescue ; would that not soften his hard 


124 


EOSA VON TANNENBUEG. - 


heart, as the warm braath of spring melts the ice? 
Would it then be utterly impossible to soften him? ” 

“ Possible,” said Edelbeit, it might be, but it does 
not seem to me at all probable. Meantime there is 
nothing to be done : I must remain in prison until he 
comes. Even were the lady to release me, I would ac- 
cept nothing without his permission, for she might 
have to atone for it. Even were she to allow me the 
ireedom of the castle, the suspicious and unfriendly 
man would draw all sorts of wrong inferences from the 
fact. Thou must be silent therefore, Kosa, and I will 
remain here a captive until further developments. 
God will make all right in the end. But this conversa- 
tion makes us both too soft hearted, that is enough for 
to-day,” Edelbert and Eosa began another topic. 

But the lady had heard enough, she hurried back to 
her apartment, but could not sleep, the whole night. 
Astonishment, admiration, pain, succeeded each other 
in her heart. 

“ This supposed charcoal-maiden is then actually a 
noble Fräulein. In order to be near her father she 
has chosen these wretched clothes and undertaken this 
hard service. She has deprived herself of the fruit 
and other presents which I gave her and brought 
them to her father. Out of love to him, she refused 
the happiness which I offered her, and preferred, 
rather, to endure all the misery of her present position. 
What a heart this child has. Oh, how happy her moth- 
er would be if she were living. And this girl, the 
child of a man whom we have bound in chains. Saved 


BOSA VON TANNENBUEGf. 


125 


my son’s life, and this father taught his daughter to 
think and act so. What noble thoughts must fill her 
breast ! ” She burst into tears. “ Indeed,’’ said she, 
“ he shall be free, the good, noble man. He shall re- 
ceive back his castle and his possessions. Tlie 
excellent father and his good daughter shall be 
happy as they deserve to be. Oh, that it lay in my 
power to release him at once from his captivity, and to 
give him back all his property. This very night he 
should leave his gloomy cell, and take his departure 
next morning for Tannenburg. 

“But this is impossible. The old Castellan here, who 
alwaj’^s insists that women should have no voice in 
matters relating to state and war, would be doubly 
deaf to my commands. He would allow Edelbert to 
quit neither the dungeon nor the castle; nor would 
our Castellan, at Tannenburg, receive him. And if my 
husband should hear that I had given such an order, he 
would never forgive me. But when women are too 
weak to help themselves, they often obtain help through 
their entreaties. So soon as my husband returns from 
the army I will try what effect prayers and tears have 
upon him. May God bestow his blessing upon the 
undertaking. But in the meantime how shall I conduct 
myself towards Fräulein Rosa. Shall I tell her that I 
know who she is ? Shall I, as the fued between her 
father and my husband can have no reference to her, 
treat her in accordance with her rank, attire her as a 
maid of noble birth, prepare for her a room in the 
castle, and give her a seat at my table ? What aston- 


126 


EOSA VON TANNENBITEG. 


isliment that would create in the whole castle. The 
obstinate Castellan, upheld by his old fellow soldiers, 
would never permit Bosa to speak another word to 
her father. He would cause him to be guarded in the 
strictest manner, and all hopes of milder imprisonment 
would be at an end. I should only increase the Fräu- 
lein’s misery. No, no, no one in the castle must know 
yet, that Eosa is Edelbert’s daugther. I will not let her 
know that I am aware of it, for what good could it do 
her and her father, and in what a dilemma would I 
entangle myself. It is best for me to do all the 
good I can for the noble Fräulein, and through her, for 
her father, in a quiet way, so as not to excite remark, 
and leave the disclosure of the secret, for some auspi- 
cious moment, which can not be very far distant.” 



ROSA VON TANNBNBUBÖ. 


127 


CHPTER XVII. 

On the following morning the Frau Von Fichten- 
bui'g sent for Rosa, and meeting her with still greater 
hindness of manner said : “ I know that you feel great 
sympathy for the good Knight who is held captive in our 
castle, and that you render him many a service. I am 
much pleased at this, and I commend you for it. But 
you, my good child, have nothing yourself, therefore I 
will in future assist your benevolence from my kitchen 
and cellar ; henceforth you must get meat and drink 
ior the Knight from me.” 

She daily gave the happy Rosa the choisest viands 
from her own table, and the best wine, better even 
than she herself drank. She managed so that the Cas- 
tellan knew nothing of it, and had succeeded in per- 
fectly quieting the old man’s suspicions which had 
been aroused concerning Rosa. She went, to the ward- 
en’s room every day with her children in order, as she 
said, to visit the deliverer of her son, and by the dis- 
tinction with which she treated her, and the authority 
she had over the v/arden’s wife, she occasioned Rosa’s 
hard service to be very much lightened. Rosa visited, 
in her leisure hours, the gracious lady in her apart- 
ment, and was permitted to bring the warden’s children 
with her, a favor of which the warden’s wife was not a 
little vain, deeming herself very fortunate in possessing 
a servant who was such a favorite with the noble family. 


128 SOSA YON TAI^NENBÜBG. 

Meantime Frau Von Fichtenburg, waited with increased 
longing for her husband’s return. If he had not sent 
tidings that he had recovered and would soon be home, 
she would have ventured to seek him at the seat of war. 
Finally Baron Kunerich returned to Fichtenburg with 
two Knights, and the gi'eater part of the soldiery who 
had gone with him to the field of battle. The Knights 
and their followers had decorated their helmets and 
lances with green oak leases and entered the castle gate, 
in great state, to the sound of trumpets. Kunerich 
sprang from his horse, greeted his wife and children, 
who were standing in the castle yard, with great joy, 
and entered into the large Rittersaal accompanied by 
the Knights, Pages, and most vahant soldiers. 

After the first joyful greetings were over, and while 
Baron Kunerich was caressing his beautiful blooming 
boy, of whom he seemed never to tire, the 
mother related the circumstances of his falling into the 
well, and of Rosa having rescued him. She described 
it minutely and vivedly and the Knight shuddered as 
he listened. “ O what would I have done had you been 
drowned, and I never more had seen thee, dear Eber- 
hard ! What an rmutterable grief this would have 
been to me and thy mother. The blood freezes in my 
veins when I think of it. O, boy, be more careful.” 

The mother brought the garments which the boy 
wore at the time and which she had preserved as a me- 
morial of the event, and showed the father the rent 
which the iron hook had made. Kunerich examined 
the rent very carefully, and said with horror, “It was 


BOSA VON TÄNNENBURG. 


129 


indeed high time for help to come ; only a few shreds 
more had to break and Eberhard would have been lost.” 
The poor servant girl has rendered us an inestimable 
service ; yes, heaven knows it was grand and noble for 
her, young girl as she is, it was an heroic act. The rapid 
decision and courage of the maiden pleases me par- 
ticularly. Hast thou rewarded her V “ That,” said his 
wife, “I leave to thee, all that I could have given her 
seemed to me too insufficient ; indeed, nothing at all, for 
she risked hei own life. My senses almost forsook me 
as I saw her swinging in the bucket over the frightful 
abyss, and such an action can not be repaid by a few 
pieces of gold. I referred her to you for a reward. I 
hope you will not put me to shame.” 

The Knight was more moved than he had ever 
been before in his life. The impulsive man wished 
to see the girl immediately. Kosa was called. 
With modest demeanor she entered the hall, and 
the Knight greeted her with a loud cry of 
joy. “Welcome, young heroine ! Welcome, thou 
savior of my son ! but wait a moment, it occurrs to me, 
if I remember correctly, that we know each other already. 
Yes, I saw you once in the warden’s room, but I would 
scarcely have thought then that thou hadst so much 
courage in thee. Truly I am under the greatest 
obligations to thee, for if it had not been for thee, I 
should have been a wretched father. This happy day 
would have been for me a day of deepest grief. Ask 
what thou wilt and thou shall have it.” “ Yes,” cried 
the Knight, who had never learned to curb his impulses. 


130 


EOSA VON 'rANNENBURG. 


and gmng vent to Lis overflowing joy, “I swear it 
by my Knightly honor, that wert thou even to ask me 
for one of my two castles, Fichtenburg^ or Tannenburg, 
I would grant thy request.’’ Eosa said quietly and with 
maidenly modesty : You have promised a great deal, 
and these Knights have witnessed it. I could ask of 
you a great favor and you would not dare to refuse me ; 
but I ask no favor, I only implore you for justice. 
Give me, give back to my father what 3"ou deprived us 
of.” “How! what! how was that?’’ said Kunerich 
struck. “ I have robbed and plundered thee ? Who art 
thou? Who is thy father ?” 

“I am Eosa Yon Tannenburg” said she, “Edelbert 
is my father, release him and give him back his posses 
sions.’’ 

The two stranger Knights, together with the 
Pages and soldiers who were in the hall, were 
lost in amazement. Knight Kunerich stepped back 
and stood as if petrified. As deeply and power- 
fully as the noble act of the daughter had moved 
him, swelled uj) afresh the wild, violent hate, which for 
so many years he had felt towards the father, and in his 
heart arose a fearful struggle of the most conflicting 
sentiments. He was white as the wall, he glanced 
wildly around with his black eyes, muttering between 
his teeth. “ I would have given either one of my two 
castles if some one else, than the daughter of this man, 
had rendered me this service.” Everyone in the hall 
was alarmed at the sudden change in the Knight’s bear- 
ing, and looked silently and perplexedly at each other. 


KOSA VON TANNENBURG. 


131 


Xunericli’s wife interposed with a soft voice, “ It has 
l3eeii only a few days since I learned that this poorly 
clad maiden was Edelbert’s daughter. Out of filial 
love io her father, and that she might visit him in his 
captivity, console him in his loneliness, serve him, and, 
even at the expense of her daily food, supply him with 
necessaries, she came in this lowly garb to our castle, 
entered the jailor’s service, bore with heavenly patience 
all the ill humor of the jailor’s wife, which the poorest 
servant in all the country around would not endure, 
and submitted to the hardest kind of work, which 
must have been ten times more trying to her than to 
other maids. It broke my heart when I looked from 
my window and saw her, a Fräulein, our equal in birth, 
hearing on her head a heavy tub of water, or when I 
saw her sweeping the court, like the lowest servant 
maid, I did not allow her to see that I knew her po- 
sition and rank, for I did not wish to take any definite 
step in the matter without consulting thee. With 
pain, I awaited thy coming, but now, dearest Kunerich, 
allow kindness and humanity to prevail. If Fräulein 
üosa had not saved our son, her filial love ought to 
move thee to be reconciled to the father of such a 
daughter.” ‘‘By my word” said Siegebert, one of the 
two stranger Knights, “ that which the Fräulein has 
done for her father, is unspeakably more than that 
which she dared to do for the boy. The rescuing of 
the boy was a brave and momentary impulse, which 
other less noble natures have experienced, from time 
to time. But the protracted and heavy trials which 


m 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBG. 


the Fräulein bore with such admirable steadfastness 
for her father, evinces a great soul j such filial love is 
a precious jewel. Were I in your place Kunerich, it 
would not take me long to decide what I should do.’’ 

“Kunerich,” said Theobald, the other Knight, “if 
Edelbert had been actuated by hostile sentiments 
towards . you, he could easily have done you harm. 
Heavens ! while you were fighting far away in open 
field, he whom you consider your most dangerous 
enemy was here in the midst of your castle and his 
daughter had the key to his prison. Nine persons out of 
ten would have profited by the opportunity to put a 
burning brand to the castle, and escape during the 
tumult! Kunerich, Kunericb^ you have really no 
grounds for your hatred tcvs^aras the brave Edelbert.’’ 

Kunerich stood with fixed gaze as if struck dumb. 
He drew a very long breath and wiped his glowing 
brow, and it was as if he had heard nothing of what 
the two knights and his consort had been saying. All 
eyes were directed towards him in anxious expectation, 
while Rosa, glanced, sighing, toward heaven. 

A frightful stillness prevailed in the hall. Finally his 
lady stej)ped nearer him, and said with gi’eat emotion, 
“Dearest Kunerich, only one word more will I say to 
thee. O listen to me kindly. Kuenrich, thou believest 
Edelbert to be thy worst enemy, but in this thou hast 
erred. Oh, if he were so inclined towards thee, how 
could thy faithful wife have asked thee to release him 
from prison. I should have been more likely to advise 
thee to guard the prison more closelj". But it is not 


BOSA VON TANNENBTJRO. 


133 


BS thou hast heretofore supposed. I u’ill now prove 
it to thee. I was the only person who discovered that 
Bosa was Edelhert’s daughter. Until this moment, 
when she revealed herself, no one in the whole castle 
excej^t myself knew who she was. The people to 
whom thou didst confide the keeping of the castle sus- 
pected it as little as thou didst. Except myself, and 
thy faithful Castellan, no one knew that Bosa visited 
her father at night. I wished to know what was the 
object of these visits. I lowered myself (I can not 
confess it to thee and these worthy knights, without 
shame), to the extent of listening at dead of night at 
the prison door, when father and daughter were en- 
gaged in conversation. More concerned about thee 
and thy castle than about myself, I undertook this step 
for which I must censure myself, so far did my zeal in 
thy interest carry me. I wanted to hear, with my own 
ears, if there was any plot against thee. Father and 
daughter were not aware, they could not be aware, that 
I heard all they said. But, O heavens, what did I 
hear ! How humiliated I felt, standing there. How 
good are these people. Tue poor imprisoned Edelbert 
knows nothing of any feelings of hatred and revenge 
towards thee. 

“He not only approved his daughter’s act, but it was 
Be, himself, who incited her to kindness of feeling 
towards us, and it was his fatherly counsels which dis- 
posed her to love us, and to do us all the good in her 
power. Without this noble, charitable counsel of her 
father, Bosa would scarcely have rescued thy son; 


134 BOSA VON TANNENBUBÖ. 

to him, therefore, belong thy first thanks for this rescue. 
How can he, then, be thy enemy ? O, how canst thou 
be angry with him longer? Why dost thou stand 
there doubting and undecided ? Ah, Kunerich, thou 
canst not, thou shalt not allow Fräulein Kosa to leave 
this hall unanswered ! Oh, God, move his heart.” 

Kunerich said in a gloomy indistinct undertone ; 
“ Kosa may take back Tannenburg, and all that belongs 
to it. I have no objection. But Edelbert must re- 
main where he is.” 

In saying this, he did not once glance towards 
his wife. Then she turned to her son saying, with a 
heart deeply stirred, and bursting into burnmg tears r 
“O, come Eberhard and beg thy father for thy^ 
deliverer, that he may grant our request, not only iu 
part, but fully. Kneel down and lift up thy little 
hands. See I kneel with thee before him. I will help 
thee to beg. I will repeat every word for thee. Say 
the words after me !” 

The sweet little one saw the mother weeping, andl 
saw Rosa, who was almost as dear to him as his owu 
mother, standing sorrowfully, with the tears in her 
eyes, and he began himself to weep. The gloomy 
aspect of his father, frightened him. He understood 
very well, that much depended upon softening hi» 
anger, and kneeling dovm he tremblingly lifted up his 
little hands, and repeated after his mother, in an im- 
pressive heart thrilling voice, the following words * 
“Dear father, do not be so cruel, do not take so 
long to decide about freeing Rosa’s father. Rosa did 


BOSA .VON TANNENBUBG. 


135 


not take so long to consider, before risking ber life for 
me. See, this good Fräulein took me out of the well. 
Do tbou now also free Baron Edelbert from prison. 
She saved me from the awful death in the water ; do 
not thou let her father die in prison. She gave thee 
back, beloved father, thy son ; give thou back to her 
the dearly beloved daughter, her noble father. O, do 
not turn away, dearest father. Only look at me, thy 
son. See, if it had not been for Fräulein Kosa, thou 
wouldst never have seen my face again, nor these my 
eyes, which noAv tearfully look up to thee. These 
hands which I now hold up to thee, would be molder- 
ing in the grave.” 

‘‘ Stop ! This is too much,” said Baron Kunerich,, 
endeavoring, in vain, to keep back the tears which he 
thought were imbecoming a knight. Turning to Kosa 
he said, “Your father, Fräulein Rosa, is free, and I 
give him back his castle with all his possessions. I 
have done him a wrong. A man who could rear such 
a daughter cannot be wicked.” 

“ O God be praised,” said the noble Hildegarde, and 
falling, with tears, upon her husband’s neck, she bade 
the little Eberhard kiss his hand. Rosa felt as though 
she were in heaven. The two knights could not re^ 
strain their tears, and offered Kunerich the right hand 
of Knighthood. 

“You are a noble man,” said Knight Theobald. 
“From this hour you stand doubly high in my estima- 
tion.” 

“You have behaved,” said Siegebert, “in a manner 


136 


ROSAVON TANNENBTJEG. 


becoming a true Knight. To be right is better than to 
be brave. To conquer one’s self better than to over- 
come an enemy.” 

The pages and other soldiers, who had during the in- 
terview, often wiped awaj the tears, spoke, joyously, in 
low tones to each other, and indeed praised the knight 
aloud. 

“ That is splendid ! That is brave ! That is noble !” 
said first one and then another. At last with unani- 
mous voice, with their whole heart, they all cried, “ Long 
live Kunerich, Hildegarde, and the little Eberhard. 
Long live Edelbert and Rosa.” 




BOSA VON TANNENBURQ. 


137 


CHAPTER XVni. 

Now that Knight Kunerich had allowed noble, hu- 
mane sentiments to get the upper hand in his heart, he 
seemed a new creature. 

The consciousness of having conquered a hostile senti- 
ment, filled him with a lofty happiness never before expe- 
rienced, and rest and peace came to his hitherto excited 
spirit, like the lovely calm after a thunder storm. His 
face was brightened, and an unwonted joy beamed in his 
eyes. Even the little Eberhard noticed this happy 
change. “Now, dear father,” said he, “thou lookest as 
gentle and kind as mamma and Fräulein Rosa. Now 
I like to look at thee and I feel I can love thee.” 

Fräulein Rosa approached the Knight and thanked 
him in the most moving terms. “No, no, my esteemed 
Fräulein, do not make too much of the matter. I de- 
serve neither praise nor thanks. I must have been a 
a monster if I had done otherwise. Come with me. 
We will go to your father. I hold it a sin to allow him 
longer to languish in captivity. Come ! He has you 
to thank for his freedom, and you shall be the first to 
announce it. Speak a good word for me, that he for- 
give me for the wrong which I have done him.” 

Frau Heidegarde beckoned now to her husband, and 
leading him to the window, spoke in an undertone with 
him. He nodded his head and smiled pleasantly sev- 
eral times, and Hildegarde then said to Rosa, “Come 


138 


BOSA you TANNENBÜEG. 


first with me, dearest Fräulein.’’ The noble Frau con- 
ducted Rosa into a magnificent apartment, where seve- 
ral articles of dress were lying in readiness for the mo- 
ment when she should assume her rightful position. 

Rosa removed the brown coloring from her face. 
Frau Hildegarde arranged her rich hair in beautiful 
ringlets and attired her in a costly white dress, with a 
ruff of the finest lace. Rosa was now indescribably 
beautiful. Her beaming countenance excelled the 
lovely white and red of fresh apple blossoms. Her curling 
hair flowed in ringlets over her shoulders, and her 
whole appearance was noble and attractive. The Frau 
looked at her with an approving smile, but was silent, 
for she thought it unwise to excite the yoimg girl’s 
vanity by praising her beauty. 

Frau Hildegarde then brought an exquisite little 
casket, of polished ebony, richly ornamented with gold 
‘*See, dear Fräulein,’’ said she, opening it ; “ these 
were the ornaments of your sainted mother. My hus- 
band, who considered it a good prize, gave it me. But 
I never wore them. I should have been ashamed to 
decorate myself with these precious jewels. The orna- 
ments were, as your property, sacred to me, and I have 
longed for the moment when I might restore them to 
you. Receive them, now, from my hands. Not a stone 
is missing, not a solitary pearl’’ 

Rosa took the ornaments with sincere thanks ; she 
examined the beautiful stones and pearls, but did not 
exhibit the joy which Frau Hildegarde had expected 
from Rosa’s youth. “O my sainted mother !” said 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 139 

Rosa, with tears in her eyes ; “ how vividly these 
jewels remind me of thee ; only as a rememberance 
are they valuable to me. Ah, see, gracious lady, ’’said 
she, turning to Hildegarde, “ this diamond was my 
mother’s wedding ring. These strings of pearls she 
received from the Duchess as a wedding present ; these 
diamond earrings my father gave her on the day of 
my birtb. Ah, it seems to me as if I saw the beloved 
mother standing before me, decorated with these 
pearls and stones. O, how uncertain is the life of man. 
These pearls are still here ; these stones sparkle still 
with undiminished lustre, but the form of the beauti- 
ful one who wore them, is now dust and ashes. What 
would man be, the noblest of God’s creatures on earth, 
if there was nothing in him that lasted longer than 
these sparkling jewels?” 

Frau Hildergard said : “ Dearest Fräulein, the tears 
which are glistening in your eyes are of more worth than 
all these pearls, and your noble sentiments are more costly 
than precious stones. Yes, when your blooming form 
will have fallen into dust, when the power of time will 
have reduced to powder even these durable stones, 
your noble sentiments will still be the ornaments of 
your noble spirit, and will adorn it far more beautifully 
than these magnificent jewels adorn the body.” 

Frau Hildegarde now dressed Rosa’s hair and neck 
with the soft gleaming pearls, added the sparkling ear- 
rings, and put on her finger the splendid diamond; but 
the ring was far too large. Rosa smilingly said: “Wo 
can omit the ring altogether^ it is not suitable for my 


140 


EOSA VON TANNENBUEG. 


youth ; only an engaged young lady wears a ring.” But 
Frau Hildegarde said : “ See, though the ring is too 
large for the ring finger, it just fits the first finger, 
therefore wear it there. The hand of the daughter that 
so nobly served her father deserves to be decorated 
with precious stones.” 

Frau Hildegarde now accompanied Fräulein Rosa to the 
prison door. Rosa entered hastily, and cried as she went 
in, “Oh, God be prais.,d, dearest father, thou art free.” 
But how surprised was she when she saw her father 
standing there, dressed as he was wont to be, on state 
occasions, in knightly attire of black velvet, and adorned 
with the gold chain and medal. The tw’O Knights, 
Siegebert and Theobald, stood by his side. Frau Hil- 
degarde had privately told her husband, that while she 
dressed Rosa in a costume suiting her rank, he should 
have the Baron attii'ed in his knightly robes ; also 
that Siegebert and Theobald should prepare the good 
Edelbert a little for the unsuspected joy which awaited 
him, without, however, letting him know that his re- 
lease was so near, that no one might deprive the noble 
daughter of the joy of being the first to inform her 
father of his restoration to liberty. The two knights 
had undertaken the task with pleasure. They them- 
selves brought the attire of which he had been robbed 
and helped to robe him. Edelbert embraced his 
daughter with great emotion. 

“Oh my dearest Rosa,” said he, “by God’s helj) thou 
hast won a victory wKich a whole army, bearing swords 
and spears, could not have been able to accomplish. 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


Ul 


This power would only have sufficed to storm Baron 
Kunerich’s castle, and to have conquered him bodily; 
but the soft power of thy love to thy father, and to all 
mankind, has vanquished Kunerich’s heart, and trans- 
formed him from an enemy to a friend. Let us thank 
God, who has directed all in a most wondrous manner. 
It is He who has blessed thy filial love, and who has 
crowned thy exertions with the happiest success.” 

Now, for the first time, Eielbert observed how richly 
Rosa was adorned with pearls and precious stones. 

“See,” said he, “God has not only granted that for 
which thou hast so often prayed, and given thy father 
his freedom, but he has also given back to thee the 
jewels of thy sainted mother, which thou hast never 
asked of Him. I have often thought, with deepest 
emotion, of the time when thou, out of love to me, 
didst sell thy little earrings, the last treasure that re- 
mained to thee of all the splendor of thy rank, and 
God has recompensed thee richly for it, in a way thou 
didst not even expect He rewards faithfuUy, and 
does not forget to recompense us for the things of 
which we have not even thought.” The two Barons, 
Siegebert and Theobald, were not a little astonished 
at Rosa’s beauty. 

“Truly, my sweet Fräulein,” said Theobald, “you 
have made no small sacrifice for your father, hiding your 
lovely face under the nut-brown color, and disfiguring 
your beautiful form by the uncomely dress. You are, 
upon my word, as beautiful as an angel.” Rosa blushed 
and took this as flattery which she did not deserve. 


142 


KOSA VON TANNENBUBG. 


“But, Siegebert,” the other knight, said: “ beauty is 
the Fraulein’s least attraction ; her filial love is of im- 
measurably greater worth. Like an angel, she came 
fi.rst into the prison to lighten her father’s misery, and 
now like an angel she appears to announce to him the 
freedom which she wrought out.” 

Bosa now mentioned Kunerich’s request that her father 
would forgive him, at which Bdelbert was much moved. 

“ Thou see’st my tears,” said he, “and thou know’st 
that I have long ago forgiven him.” At this moment 
the prison door opened and Baron Kunerich and his 
lady, together with the little Eberhard, stepped in. 
Edelbert and Kunerich, much moved, extended to each 
other, in a knightly manner, the right hand. All enmity 
having subsided, they experienced the blessedness of 
reconciliation, and eternal friendship. The good, 
warm-hearted Edelbert had experienced a peculiar 
pleasure in seeing the sweet boy whose life Bose had 
saved. He sat down, wearied by his unwonted exer- 
tion, on the stone bench of the cell, took the boy upon 
his knee, looked at him, affectionately, with tears in his 
eyes, blessed him and said: “Dear, sweet boy, God 
grant that thou may’st be a joy to thy father and 
mother, and grow to be a noble man.” 

“O my dear Baron,” said the little boy’s mother, 
“God grant that he may love us as thy daughter loves 
thee, and that he may be like her in noble impulses ; 
then were we the happiest of parents.” 

The day ended with a festive banquet in the spacious 
and brilliantly illuminated Rittersaal. 


BOSA VON T-kKNENBURG. 


143 


Edelbert and Rosa had to take the seats of honor at 
the table. Kunerich sat beside Edelbert, and Hilde- 
garde beside Rosa. All the guests were very happy,’ 
while Knight Kunerich had not been so joyous for many 
B yeai-. He said : “Such heartfelt happiness I have 
never, in my life, felt. My foolish enmity towards you 
dearest Edelbert, poisoned my truest joy. What bles- 
se Iness there is in union and peace 1 Now, for the first 
time, I recognize the fact that hatred and enmity spiing 
from hell. Love and friendship, from heaven.’’ 

Kimerich had the large silver goblets, which -were 
splendidly lined with gold, brought in and filled with 
the best and oldest wine he had in the cellar. By Ed- 
elbert’s plate stood the large silver goblet, out of which 
he had been accustomed to drink in his own castle, and 
which was precious to him as a relic of his ancestors. 
Rosa had recognized tlm goblet at once, and had thank- 
ed Frau Hildegarde, simply with a look, for her thought- 
fulness. Kunerich first emptied the goblet to Edel- 
bert’s and Rosa’s health, after which the two Barons,' 
Seigebert and Theobald, followed his example. Edel- 
bert drank, but said very gravely : “AVe must be very 
careful. Sir Knights, how we use this strong wine, it is 
capable of conquering Knights who have never before 
been vanquished by any enemy, and who are not afraid 
of any Tm*kish sabre.” 

Kunerich laughed ; the praise of his wine pleased 
him. Besides which he understood the hint. 

“I reme über well,” said he to Edelbert, “when we 
were pages at the coi rl of the Duke, you were wont to 


144 


ROSA VON TANNENBXTBG. 


aidmonisli me and my boon companions, to observe mod- 
eration. Well, well, you bad reason. Don’t be anx^ 
ious ; we will pass the time pleasantly together, but re- 
main sober. We will conduct ourselves in a becoming' 
manner, and every one, previous to drinking, must give 
a good toast, and then Hüdegarde and Fräulein Eosa 
must to-day toast with us.” 

Hüdegarde and Eosa touched glasses, but they 
scarcely moistened their lips with the fiery wme. The 
toasts and good wishes which met with the greatest ap- 
plause were these : 

Edelbert said: “May all Germans live in peace and 
union and nevermore disagree over trifles.” 

Theobald said : “May all German women and maid- 
ens resemble, in loveable qualities. Lady Hildegarde, 
sweet Eosa, and the sainted Mathüde.” 

Siegebert said : May all parents bring up their 
chüdren as Edelbert and Mathüde have brought up 
this daughter, and may aU chüdren love and honor 
their parents as Eosa loves and honors her father.” 

Kunerich ended with the words “ May all parents 
have as much joy in their chüdren, as Edelbert has in 
his daughter.” 



BOSA VON TANNENBUEG. 


145 


CHAPTER XIX. • 

Next morning, very early, Kunerich entered Edelbert’s 
apartment attired for a journey, booted and spurred. 

“Edelbert,” cried be, “I have long since routed my 
people out of tbeir beds and made them saddle their 
horses, for I wished to go with you, at once, to Tan- 
nenburg and give you back your castle and all your pos- 
sessions, but Hildegarde thought as the castle had 
been so long in the hands of servants only, it would not 
be looking its best, and they must put it in order first. 
She may be right,” said Kunerich, laughing; “but it 
never would have occurred to me. Remain then together 
wuth your Rosa, yet a little while, with me, dear Edel- 
bert. You have spent many mournful days within 
these walls, let us therefore spend a few pleasant 
days together.” 

Edelbert was quite contented with the proposition, 
so Kunerich went with him into the large Hall, where 
Siegebert and Theobald, and their pages had already 
assembled, and all sat down together at the table to 
breakfast, after which the two visiting Knights, who 
viere anxious to get home, took their leave of Kunerich 
and Edelbert, and departed with their soldiers who 
were waiting below in the court-yard. 

But Kunerich said to Edelbert, “Now, first of all 
you must look at my castle, then after dinner we will 
go hunting. First, look at the portraits of my ances- 
tors with which this Hall is adorned.” 


146 


EOSA VON TANNENBÜRG. 


Edelbert examined tlie old Kniglits in armor, and the 
ladies who were taken in antique costume. Of most 
of them Kunerich had many things to relate. Then 
Edelbert was shown the armory, in which arms of all 
kinds, bright and polished, were to be seen,, not only 
many full suits of armor for the Knights, but also suits 
for the horses. After this Edelbert was conducted 
through the entire castle, and as they passed through 
the vaulted corridors he drew his attention particularly 
to the finely sculptured and painted stag heads which 
had the unique attraction of natural antlers with from 
ten to twenty prongs. They passed on to the stables 
where were thorough-bred, finely groomed horses ; 
and on down into the vaulted rock-hewn cellars, to 
admire the casks of the best wine, and taste, whether 
he wished or not, of their contents. At last they 
visited the well in the castle-yard. It was not with- 
out a shudder that both knights looked down. Edel- 
bert rejoiced afresh over his daughter’s noble deed, 
and Kunerich over the escape of his son. Both fathers 
embraced each other at the well and thanked God for 
the successful deliverance. 

Frau Hildegarde had, in the meantime, shown to the 
Fräulein her whole household arrangements. Chests 
filled with dazzling white linen, her beautiful rich 
embroidery, the large spotless kitchen, and many 
other objects of interest. Finally she opened several 
chests which stood in a certain room that contained 
everything in the way of linen, rich dresses, Ac., which 
had been brought from Tannenburg to Fichtenburg. 


BOSA TON TANNENBURG. 


147 


“I liave most carefully preserved them,” said the 
noble lady, “ and shall have them returned to the 
castle. The most beautiful of these pieces, I am told, 
Tyere made by thy moth er’s oum hands, and they give 
■evidence of her unwearied industry, and of her love 
to thee. Even when thou wert but an infant, the 
loving mother was solicitous for thy welfare, and pro- 
viding for thee. Not a single article, as I well know, 
was obtained unrighteously, therefore the blessing of 
heaven rests on them, and for this reason I think thou 
couldst never be deprived of them.” 

Eosa wished after this to visit the warden’s room 
once more. Frau Hildegarde acompanied her. 

As thev passed over the Court yard, Edelbert and 
Kunerich joined them. 

The warden was sitting, in his large arm-chair, in 
the room, resting after his journey, but at the sound of 
Kunerieh’s voice he sprung up and opened the door. 
There Eosa stood before him. 

“Why Eosa,” cried he, “but pardon me! Fräulein 
Eosa, I should say. What, what, have I lived to see 1 
Eut first come with the gracious company into the 
room. So, yes, yes I I would have sooner expected 
the heavens to fall, than that my servant should turn 
out to be the Fräulein von Tannenburg. Even now 
I can scarcely believe that a noble Fräulein should 
ever have swept the floor on which I stand. And 
again how astonished I am that I should have been 
such a blockhead as not to have perceived sooner that 
you were Ba.on Edelbert’s daughter. Yesterday even- 


148 


KOSA VON TANNENBTJRG. 


ing tlie wounded soldiers in the court yard were dis- 
cussing, with some excitement, the extraordinary, story, 
and when I learned it from them, suddenly a light 
broke in upon me. For that reason you were so 
compassionate towards the imprisoned Knight. Well, 
well, I praise your filial love, and God and my gracious 
master have rewarded you for it, as I perceive. But 
my Hedwig — how she opened her eyes ! I cannot at 
all describe it. She nearly lost her senses, and almost 
tore her hair out by the roots. Well, she may ask her 
pardon herself for the rudeness with which she treated 
you.” 

The two children of the keeper were standing shyly 
in a corner. Kosa went to them and spoke to them, in 
her usual friendly manner, which gave the children 
back their courage. 

The little Bertha said ; “ How splendidly you are 

dressed, Fräulein Rosa, everything is beautiful and new 
that you have on, even your face.” 

The little Othman said; “That is no fault. I 
would like even that, first i ate, if Fräulein Rosa would 
remain our servant, for we will never get such a good 
one m all our lives again.” 

“Kunerich and all the others laughed, and Rosa 
asked the children for their mother ? 

Little Bertha said: “She has just cut the bread for 
soup, the dish is there upon the table.” 

“Yes,” said the little Othman, “when she heard the 
company coming, she fled out of the door as if wolves 
were at her heels.” 


ROSA VON TANNENBÜRG. 


149 


Bosa went to the door, which led from the room 
into the kitchen and brought Hedwig in. The poor 
woman stood there much confused, as she saw Baron 
JEdelbert and Fräulein Bosa, standing before her, 
splendidly attired, and also Kunerich, her rigor- 
ous master, and Hildegarde, her gracious mistress. 
She became alternately pale and red. “ I should like 
bo creep into a mousehole,’’ said she, ‘‘to hide from 
this gracious company, for they will all know, now 
what sweet speeches I am addicted to, and what 
beautiful names I called the gracious Fräulein. But 
if I had known from what exalted lineage my Bosa 
was descended, and what distinguished honors awaited 
her, I would assuredly have conducted myself in a far 
different manner.” 

The Frau von Fichtenburg said, “My good Hed- 
wig the most insigmificaut person is of divine extrac- 
tion, and that is the highest nobility, with which no 
other can be compared. The poorest beggar, if he be 
£L good man, will attain a majesty in j^onder world, 
before which all the magnificence of this pales.” 

“We have, therefore, good reason to treat the least of 
God’s creatures kindly. You experience regTet and 
shame to have used your former seiwant ill now that 
she stands before you transformed into a noble Fräu- 
lein. A still more painful regret and shame will be ex- 
perienced if we treat the poor in this world with pride 
and contempt, and then see them in yonder world in all 
their glory.” 

Hedwig admitted the truth of these remarks, and 


150 


EOSA VON TANNENBUEO. 


asked the Fraulein’s forgiveness with many words and 
copious tears. 

Eosa said, “ My dear Hedwig, I might often have 
said many things to you, but then I did not think it ad- 
visable. I waited a more suitable moment, which is now 
come. I must also add a few words here. But first, I 
must, truthfully, declare before this goodly company 
and my father, that you have many good qualities* 
You are a thoughtful, loving wife, a good mother, and 
an excellent housekeeper ; you are iirelessly industri- 
ous, and cleanliness and order reign in your household* 
You are careful without being stingy, and do a great 
deal of good to the poor. Yes, you are obliging, friendly, 
and kind towards every one, so long as they are fortu- 
nate enough not to excite your anger. But then you. 
are no longer able to restrain yourself. You then say 
and do things which are not seemly. These moments 
of passion embitter your own life, and that of those 
who are around you, and have procured for you the 
reputation of being a very wicked person. Yes, they 
even assert that you have very little understanding, 
(which is certainly not wanting in you,) because you 
make so little use of it. Instead of exercising it, you 
allow anger to usurp its place. Try to master yourself ; 
control your angry passions; use your intelligence. Be- 
lieve that a fit of passion is nothing less than a tempor- 
ary attack of insanity. Kemember that patience and 
gentleness are the duty of a Christian. Kesolve now 
to improve in this respect, renew this resolution every 
morning and evening ; yes, many times during the day,, 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


151 


before God’s face ask Him for His assistance, and do not 
lose courage if you do not succeed at once. Do not be- 
come weary of renewing your attempts again and again 
with increased earnestness. The tree does not fall with 
the first stroke. Have patience and you will finally con- 
quer your anger, which is, in fact, your worst enemy ^ 
and when you get another servant who is not lacking iu 
the will to learn, do not expect that she should learn in- 
stantly to do everything as thoroughly and cleverly as 
yourself. Take the trouble to let her understand your 
wishes ; have sufficient patience to show her many 
times, and tell her of her faults with gentleness and 
love, and she will allow herself to be taught, and will 
honor and love you. Yes, truly, if you will only lay 
aside these propensities, every one will esteem you as 
an excellent woman. If I did not esteem you myself, I 
should not have said half so much ; follow my advice, 
and you will obtain honor, happiness, and bless- 
ing.” 

“That is what Dcair well and wisely spoken,” said 
Kunerich. “It is a piece of advice that many men and 
women should take to heart, my wife excepted, of 
course,” added he smilingly. “What a sensible and 
well-instructed Fräulein you are, my worthy Kosa ; I 
myself, will profit by my share of your advice. What yon 
said agrees with what my sainted father often said, but 
he generally condensed it into one short phrase — ‘ more 
brains and less passion.’ ” 

After a few days, Knight Kunerich and his Lady, 
Edelbert and Fräulein Rosa, attended by a large retinue 


152 


EOSA VON TANNENBTJKG. 


of armed soldiers and richly dressed retainers, set out 
for Tannenburg. 

The report of what had occurred at Fitchenburg had 
already been spread. From every village and town be- 
longing to Kunerich, through which they passed, happy 
people swarmed out to rejoice over the reconciliation of 
the two Knights, but principally io see the young Fräu- 
lein who had shown her father such devotion, and so he- 
roically rescued the boy from the well. 

When Edelbert entered his own domains, everything 
was very still and the silence of death reigned over every 
place. Edelbert was astonished at this, and was lost in 
conjectures as to the reason, but when he rode through 
the outer gate of his castle, he saw that the whole yard 
was full of people. All his subjects were assembled here 
in the most beautiful order; on one side stood the boys, 
youths and men, on the other the little girls, maidens, 
and women. All were festively attired. Burhhard, 
the charcoal burner, spoke in behalf of the men, and his 
wife, in behalf of the women.* The former had prac- 
tised with the old Castellan a long and exhaustive 
speech, after the style of the times, and began with 
very majestic mien and gestures. 

“ Whereas we, here assembled, have, according to an- 
cient custom determined that — that — ” here he could go 
no further. He recovered himself, hovv^ever, and said, 
“ Most noble and beloved knight, from the moment I first 
saw your face, all the studied speech, which was to have 
been so fine, went out of my head. I can say but one thing, 
now that I have lived to see this day I am ready to die !” 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


153 


And the good Gertrude also greeted her beloved 
master and Fräulein Rosa, with tears of joy, in- 
stead of the studied speech. Indeed the emotion of 
the good people was so great, that they were scarcely 
able to shout their acclaims of joy for weeping, and 
Edelbert and Rosa, themselves, moved to tears, passed 
through the rows of delighted people. Upon a raised 
platform, before the inner gate which led to the castle 
stood the Knights Siegebert and Theobald, as well as 
many other Knights with their wives, sons and daught- 
ers, richly dressed, and surrounded by a numerous 
retinue. In the foreground stood Agnes, Burkhard’s 
good daughter, crowned with flowers and dressed in 
white, holding a cushion of royal purple adorned with 
golden tassels, upon which lay the castle keys shining 
like silver. 

“Noble Fräulein,” she said, “you have not only 
delivered your beloved father from his prison, but your 
filial love has opened to him the gates of his castle ; 
receive therefore these keys, and deliver them over to 
your father.” 

Rosa offered the cushion to her fathel*. He took th© 
keys with a glance towards heaven, his thoughts in- 
voluntarily reverting to that terrible night when he 
passed through these gates, bound in chains, upon a 
cart, and followed by Rosa weeping and lamenting. 
The friendly reception which Kunerich’s wife had so 
ihou'ghtfully prepared for him, touched him all the 
more, and he said, “Be^’ore I cross the threshold of 
the gate, let us go into the chapel. God has caused 


154 


EOSA VON TANNENBURG. 


all that has happened to work together for our good, 
and has turned our sorrow into joy. Let us unite in 
a glorious Te Deum. 

All the knights and ladies approved his suggestion,, 
and followed him into the chapel, after which they 
went to the banquet, which was spread in the grand 
hall, the people being meantime entertained in the 
court. Edelbert, however, was too impatient to await 
the end of the repast. He went into the court before 
the guests had risen from the table, and mingled with 
his servants as freely as a father with his children. 
Before all he sought out honest Burkhard and his good 
wife. 

“Thou faithful old servant,” he said, “who didst 
with thy worthy wife receive my daughter, so lovingly, 
into thy home, thou shalt never leave my castle again 
but shalt live here for ever. I appoint thee my 
‘master of the horse,’ an office which thou under- 
standest better than that of charcoal burning, from the 
fact that thou hast been brought up from thy youth as 
a rider, and dost know how to set a horse wdth even 
Xnightly grace. Thj^ good Gertrude who provided me, 
in my captivity, with linen, shall henceforth be house- 
keeper in my castle. But good Agnes who was such a 
true friend to my daughter in her sorrow, shall now be 
her constant companion. A more faithful servant, and 
a truer friend, it would be impossible to find.” 

After this Edelbert went the rounds of all the tables, 
and spoke with every guest, and to every one he knew 
how to say something pleasant. The lady of Fichten- 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


155 


burg, finding it impossible to invite all of Edelbert’» 
subjects, had selected the oldest fathers of families, 
with their children and grandchildren, without making 
any difference between rich and poor, and to the others 
she had said that Edelbert would entertain them ai 
another time. 

Many of those present had been accustomed to re^ 
ceive, from Edelbert, yearly or monthly benefits, but 
since the castle had passed into strange hands, had re- 
ceived nothing. Edelbert assured them that their 
benefices would be resumed, an assurance which ex- 
cited universal joy, and all swore that they were ready 
to expend their possessions, and their life blood for 
their beloved master. 

Kunerich, who had also come down, stood at Edel- 
bert’s side and said, “It is indeed true that kindness, 
is more powerful than force, and it is better to be- 
loved than to be feared.” 

Edelbert said, “A man who is feared by the wicked,, 
and loved by the good, is, in my opinion, the best.” 


156 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBG. 


CHAPTEK XX. 

Edelbert and Kunerich, Rosa and Hildegarde, visited 
each other very often. Kunerich consulted his friend 
Edelbert on all occasions when the welfare of his sub- 
jects was at stake, and Rosa honored the noble Hilde 
garde like a second mother, and endeavored ever to 
learn something from her. The friendly relations in 
which they all lived tended to enoble and beautify their 
lives. After awhüe, however, Kunerich ceased to 
come to Tannenburg ; he even declined on trivial pre- 
texts the visits which Edelbert and Rosa proposed to 
make him. 

Quite unexpectedly one day he i ode into the court- 
yard, upon his white horse, and invited Edelbert and 
Fräulein Rosa to go with him to Fichtenburg. 

They easily perceived that he had something special 
on hand, but they did not succeed in discoveiing the 
secret. Nevertheless, they went with him. As they 
reached Fichtenburg, Kimerich scarcely gave them time 
to greet his wife. 

“ Edelbert/’ said he, “ you must come with me, and 
Fräulein Rosa also.’" 

He drew Edelbert almost forcibly away, and Hilder- 
garde and Rosa followed the two Knights. As they 
passed through the dark corridor leading to Edelbert’s 
cell, Edelbert cried affnghted, “Heavens! where are 
you leading me ? ” 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBG. 


157 


‘‘I tremble,” said Rosa, “ what can we want in this 
weary prison ? ” 

Kunerich remained silent, opened the door of the 
prison and they entered, astonished, into a very beauti- 
ful Chapel, splendidly decorated, as was the custom of 
the times. Through the lofty stained windows stream- 
ed. prismatic rays of light, softly illuminating walls and 
high vaulted ceilings, in whose azure depths gleamed 
a host of glittering stars, while the Altar shone with 
exquisite gilded carvings. 

Rosa and Edelbert expressed their admiration and 
approval. 

‘‘I thought,” said Kunerich, “that this transforma- 
tion would please you. I wished to surprise you with 
it, and for this reason I forbade your visits while it was 
building. The Chapel is beautiful, is it not ? But to 
my Hildegarde belongs the honor of it all. She knew 
very adroitly how to propose that I should make this a 
church. Hear how she began it. When we returned last 
autumn, after accompaning thee to Tannenburg, she 
begged me to visit, with her, the prison in which you 
had lain so long. I had little inclination to do so. 
Why should I go there f I shuddered at the thought. 
But I went, nevertheless, her entreaties were so moving. 
As we entered she said to me, ‘Just see how fihal 
love has transformed this dreary prison into a pleasant 
dwelling.’ ‘ It is true,’ said I, ‘ this place used to 
look terrible, now it is light, and as beautiful as a 
chapel.’ 

“ Then my Hildergade said joyfully, ‘ Thou hast con- 


158 


KOSA VON TANNENBUBG. 


ceived a glorious thought which has been secretly my 
own for some time. It first occurred to me when I 
saw the beautiful chapel at Tannenburg. Yes, this 
spacious and lofty rock-hewn cave can easily be made 
into a chapel. We must perform some public act to 
show our gratitude to God for the happy rescue of our 
son, and the founding of the chapel is the best we can 
do. This has previously been wanting, splendid and 
well appointed as our castle has been in other particu- 
lars, until now, we have been obliged to attend divine 
service in the village church, at the foot of the hill, 
which was very inconvenient and sometimes impossible. 
A chapel of one’s own is a memorial which will bring a 
blessing to our posterity,’ said Hildegarde. The sug- 
gestion pleased me. 

“ ‘ Thou art perfectly right,’ said I, ‘ yes, so it shall 
be. No prisoner shall languish here henceforth. Here 
we will always thank God for his mercy and compassion 
in rescuing our son through Fräulein Kosa ; for having 
reconciled me with Baron Edelbert ; and for having 
restored peace to my soul.’ And this was the way in 
which the chapel was inaugm*ated.’’ 

“ And to-morrow,” added Frau Hüdegarde, the pious 
Abbot Norbert is coming to consecrate the chapel. Sieg«- 
bert, Theobald and several other Knights, whom we love 
and honor, will be here at the holy festival, with theii- 
wives and children ; but the dearest and most honored of 
the guests, are worthy Edelbeii and my beloved young 
Kosa. We are assured that you will take a peculiar 
interest in the chapel which owes its existence to you, 


EOSA VON TANNENBURG. 


159 


and you will, assuredly, enjoy this testimonial with 
heartfelt sincerity.” 

The consecration of the chapel to God’s service, was 
indeed a most beautiful and touching ceremony, and 
the invited Knights, accompanied each by his house- 
hold, appeared promptly at the appointed hour. These 
stationed themselves on both sides of the altar, attired 
in the courtly dress of that period, with helmets and 
armor, and gii’ded about with swords. Their ladies, 
according to the custom at high festivals in that age, 
appeared di'essed in black and gold, and the unmarried 
ones in white, wreathed with flowers. All were filled 
with a reverence towards God. But little Eberhard, 
and his two little sisters, kneeled before the altar with 
uplifted hands, and with an expression of adoration 
upon theii’ faces that made them look hke little angels. 
The chapel was decorated with evergreens, and the 
altar with fragrant flowers, while a soft radiance from 
waxen tapers, blending with the clouds of burning in- 
cense, threw a mystic spell over the scene. The worthy 
Abbot Norbert entered with mitre and pastoral-crook, 
and attended by several Divines in robes of office. Ad- 
vancing to the altar, he turned to the congregation, 
and, remarking with sincere pleasure their devotional 
attitude and demeanor, addressed them in the follow- 
ing words : 

“ Beloved in the Lord ! The love of good parents to 
their son, who was rescued from eminent peril, the 
love of a faithful daughter towards her father, whom 
she tenderly ministered unto in this very place, were 


160 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBG. 


the ruling motives which caused this dreary cell to be 
transformed into the beautiful chapel, which we have 
just consecrated to the worship of Almighty God, and 
to an ever grateful remembrance of the benefits which 
He bestows so freely on his unworthy children. Upon 
the circumstances which have prepared for us the joy- 
ful festival of to-day, I intended to base my discourse ; 
but in order to avoid wounding the modesty of some 
of my honored hearers, I shall refrain from dwelling, at 
further length, on this history, already sufficiently famil- 
iar to you. I shall only draw your attention to some 
thoughts which this event involuntarily suggests, and 
as I see many worthy parents, with their beloved child- 
ren gathered before this altar, I shall limit myself to 
spealdng a few words to parents and children. It is a 
beautiful provision of the Almighty, and one in which 
His wisdom and love are especially discernible, that 
He has seen fit to confide the most lovable creatures 
on earth to the guardianship of tender parents, in 
whose breasts He has implanted a spark of his own 
boundless love ; that He bestowed His first benefits to 
mankind through a good father and tender mother; 
and that He, the invisible One, reveals his increasing 
love to His children, through the love of true and faith- 
ful parents. May all fathers and mothers seriously en- 
deavor to place before the children’s e3^es an example 
of the highest good. May they strive to imitate God, 
who not only provides richly for our bodily necessities, 
but exercises a fatherly supervision over us in various 
ways, guiding us in the right path by rewards and 


ROSA VON TANNENBURÖ. 


161 


punishments, and endeavoring, throughout, all to enoble 
and elevate our characters ; may the love of parents to 
their children, that heavenly flame, never be darkened 
by the soot and smoke of earthly passions, never de- 
generate into the foolish partiahty which voluntarily 
blinds itself to the faults of the children, thus involv- 
ing them in moral ruin ; may this flame of heavenly 
love never be extinguished by sinful lusts, dissipation 
or wild passions j may all children duly value the 
blessing of having loving parents. 

“And you, sons and daughters, who have left behind 
you the years of childhood, look back with me once 
more to that golden period of your existence, when 
your parents cared for all your wants, provided you 
with food and drink ; when your mother dressed you 
in garments fashioned by their own loving hands. 
Your fathers spared no trouble and denied themselves 
many pleasures to supply your wants. Your parents 
would have divided their last crust of bread with you. 
When you were sick, your anxious mothers spent 
sleepless nights watching at your bedside. Your 
father’s care, your mother’s tender solicitude, preserved 
you from innumerable dangers. To them you confided 
your little troubles, and how tenderly they wiped away 
your tears. In them and their superior intelligence, 
you found your guiding rule. They supplied your want 
of experience, and you, gradually, acquired their riper 
knowledge. They taught you to read ; a hundred times 
you would ask them what such and such a thing was 
called, and father and mother were never weary of an- 


162 


EOSA VON XANNENBUEO. 


swering your enquiries. They taught you the true, the 
beautiful, and the good, and encouraged you in the 
pursuit of them. They were the umpires of your little 
disputes with your brothers and sisters, and from their 
lips you imbibed the principles of patience, peace and 
concord. Your father’s approval of your good conduct, 
and your mother’s pleasant smile, were a sweeter re- 
ward than would have been the most costly gift. Even 
the punishments which the wise parents found neces- 
sary, from time to time, to inflict, were beneficial. 
From the first moment that you opened your eyes to 
the light of the sun, how lovingly God has cared for 
you ! Recognize in this beautiful provision of the Al- 
mighty a proof of His kindness and love towards you, 
and honor Him in your parents, through whose hands 
you have received so much good. Love the parents 
whom He has given you ; obey your parents whose ex- 
perience and whose wisdom are so infinitely superior to 
your own, even in the smallest matters. 

“Let the most ardent gratitude fill your hearts. May 
one of the most terrible of crimes be far from you, that 
of filial ingratitude. Have implicit confidence in your 
parents, and beware, when you have offended them, of 
resorting to falsehood and duplicity, for this will prove 
the first steps to total depravity. Seek to give them 
pleasure, and remembering that you can never repay 
them lor the countless benefits you have received at 
their hands, endeavor to cultivate at least a spirit of 
gratitude. As they cared for you in the helpless days 
of your infancy, even so watch over their declining years 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBG. 


163 


and sweeten their last hours by your tender solicitude. 
Content yourselves with dry bread and water, and 
clothe yourselves in sackcloth, rather than suffer your 
perents to want. Thus ye shall fulfill the fifth com- 
mandment, and it shall be well with you in this world 
and the next. God’s blessing shall go with you even 
unto the grave ; and on the other side He will bestow 
on you a crown of glory. From the fathers and moth- 
ers, and their children, assembled before this altar, I 
look up to the Holy One, in whose name this altar has 
been consecrated ; to Him, who is our loving father, 
and whose loving children we ought all to be ; to Him 
who wishes us to call Him by the tender name of 
‘ Father,* and who assures us that although a mother 
may forget her child. He will never forget us. But pa- 
rents who love their children truly and heartily, may 
take this very love as the pledge of the love of God, 
their Father in heaven, towai'ds all mankind ; and what 
a comfort in affliction must this thought be to a father 
or mother. ‘ God’s love toward me is infinitely greater 
than mine to my children. How should He forget 1 
And thus only those children, whose hearts are filled 
with love, confidence, obedience and deference towards 
their parents, can call God in truth and sincerity their 
Father ; only those children who have attained to that 
standard can love the Heavenly Father above all, obey 
Him in spite of all temptations to evil, and attain to 
perfection. Only those children who have been taught 
to exercise love towards their brothers and sisters, to 
the exclusion of all hatred, enmity and discord, can love 


164 


KOSA VON TANNENBÜKG. 


their fellow creatures as children of the one Almighty 
Father, In the various trials of life, from which no 
one can hope to be exempt, such children only will find 
in God their rod and staff, and will not be afraid even 
at the awful moment of death, for that will be only a 
messenger after all, sent to summon us to the happy 
and glorious home of our Father. O God ! dear Fath- 
er in Heaven, grant that all mankind may love Thee 
above all, and each other, as brothers and sisters ; that 
they may have compassion on all poor widows and 
orphans ; and that they may be kept unspotted from 
the world, for we know that is the service most accept- 
able unto Thee. Thus the children of men would form 
even upon the eai*th a united and happy family, upon 
which then the Father of mankind could look with de- 
light and satisfaction. That the service which has been 
held here this day, and that will continue to be held in 
future years, may tend to this consummation, we hum- 
bly hope and pray. Do Thou, grant our prayers, 
through Thy Son, Jesus Christ, Our Lord,” 

As soon as the consecration of the chapel had taken 
place and the first service had been held, every one 
adjourned to the great banqueting hall. Hardly were 
they seated, when a blast of trumpets was heard in the 
court below. Kunerich and the other Knights sprang 
to their feet and rushed to the window. The court 
was filled with armed soldiers, and several retainers 
now hurried into the hall, crying, “ the Duke, the 
Duke.’’ The Knights were hastening to meet him, 
when he entered the hall attended by several comtiers. 


EOSA VON TANNENBUEO. 


165 


He was a stately man, of tall and noble aspect, and, 
although his hair was already gray, his eyes still spark- 
led with all the fire of youth. He greeted Edelbert 
first, offering him his right hand, and said : “ My dear 
Edelbert, I wished to be the first to give you the news 
of our glorious victory, and to bring you the Emperor’s 
thanks, and my own, for the efficient assistance ren 
dered by your gallant men. Last night I arrived at 
Tannenburg, where I was informed you were here, I, 
therefore, started by dawn with my retinue for Eichten- 
burg fully persuaded that we should find in Kunerich, 
also, a sincere and faithful friend.” 

“Well, Baron Kunerich,” he continued, turning to 
the Knight and holding out his hand, “you were not 
prepared for such an invasion, were you? I am 
further commissioned to express to you, on behalf of 
the Emperor, his entire satisfaction at your reconcilia- 
tion with the excellent Edelbert, and to assure you, on 
my own account, that I am infinitely pleased to see two 
such gallant Knights on terms of intimacy and friend- 
ship.” Kunerich was beside himself with joy. The 
favor of the Emperor and the Duke had acted upon him 
like Bhine wine, and he felt himself almost intoxicated. 

The Duke’s eye then fell on the pious Abbot. He 
went over to him, assured him of his sincere pleasure 
at finding him there, and added, “lam all the more 
delighted to see you here to-day, worthy Father, as 
this is a privilege seldom enjoyed by us worldly people. 
You are never to be seen ouside the walls of your con- 
vent, except when you are fulfilling some pious duty.” 


166 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBO. 


The Duke tuen turned to Kunerich’s consort and 
said. “Relying upon your extreme goodness, noble 
lady, I venture to invite myself, an unbidden guest, to 
the banquet, and salute you as my gracious hostess, 
and that of the noble Knights who attend me.’’ 

“To you, my amiable Fräulein,” he said to Rosa “I 
have a special and important message, which I will de- 
liver after our repast is over. And now I will no longer 
keep these lords and ladies (to whom I offer my re- 
spectful salutations), from the table, but will proceed 
to set them a good example, for I must confess that 
my sharp ride has given me an amazing appetite. Let 
us all dine together sociably, and without any cere- 
mony. I wish to have Frau Von Fichtenburg and 
Fräulein Rosa on either side, although that will be a 
direct contradiction to the saying ‘Virtue in the midst.’ 
And you, worthy Abbot, I should like to have opposite 
me, between the two reconciled Knights. To act the 
peackmaker has ever been your highest ambition ; this 
position will, therefore, be most agreeable to you ; and 
now that we have placed all the actors in this little 
drama beside our person, the other guests may be 
seated.” 

The Duke then took his seat at the table where a 
fresh cover and a golden goblet had been placed for 
him, and the other guests took their places as he had 
reqested. 

After the first hunger of the guests had been satisfied, 
the Duke resumed : “ Although not only the news of 

the feud between Edelbert and Kunerich, but also the 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


167 


tidings of their reconciliation, and the efforts with 
which your wife, and especially Fräulein Kosa, pro- 
moted it, have already reached our ears in the Imperial 
camp, still this history seemed to me so important, that 
I wished to hear even the smallest details connected 
with it.” 

He proceeded to inquire minutely into all the cir- 
cumstances. Edelbert and Rosa, Kunerich and Hilde- 
garde took it in turns to relate. The Duke listened 
very attentively, often expressing his sympathy to Edel- 
hert, and his approbation of Rosa’s conduct. He also be- 
stowed well merited praises on Frau von Fichtenburg, 
and displayed a particular pleasure in Kunerich’s present 
conduct. Edelbert and Rosa wished, in order to spare 
Kunerich's feeling, to suppress and pass over many 
things, but Kunerich related everything with manlj 
sincerity. 

“I have sinned grievously,” he said, “ and I know it. 
But the fault has been committed and concealment and 
secresy will not undo it. It is more honorable to con- 
fess the sin, and make what atonement lies in my pow- 
er. I believe sincerely that I have done this, and I 
counsel every one who has sinned to go and do likewise. 
He will lose nothing by it in this life, and otherwise he 
will never feel happy or peaceful.” 

When the narration had come to an end the Duke 
looked merrily at the circle of guests and remarked : 
‘‘ We have to thank this honored Fräulein that we are 
now sitting, peacefully together, at this board. With- 
out her friendly interposition, we should now be en- 


168 


ROSA VON TANNENBURG. 


gaged in bloody warfare, for it stands to reason that 
we should not have permitted our good Knight Edelbert 
to remain in his prison. It had already been determined 
in the Imperial camp that as soon as the war with our 
foreign foes was ended, I should march with an over- 
whelming force to Kunerich’s castle, and conquer it. 
Kunerich would certainly have made us pay dearly for 
our victory, and blood would have been shed in tor- 
rents. God be praised for having ordered things oth- 
erwise, through the intervention of a delicate girl, this 
high-bom Fräulein.” 

The modest Eosa blushed. “ Most gracious Prince, 
I do not deserv^e so much honor ; God ordered 
it all. The little bird which flew into the bucket 
at the well, had as much to do with the issue of 
the misunderstanding between Baron Kuneiich and 
my father as I had. It was the fact of its appearing 
just at the moment when Eberhard was beside the 
well and Thekla away, which prevented the war from 
taking place.” 

The pious Abbot Norbert said, much moved : “ The 
tme and beautiful remark, which Fräulein Rosa has 
just made, is of inestimable value. Yes, it is so, a 
thousand little circumstances occur in every day life 
to which we pay no attention, and which yet prove of 
so much importance, that the fate of man hinges on 
them. How many of these apparently trivial circum- 
stances take place in this httle history. Who, 
for instance, could have supposed that his fate depend- 
ed on whether the sun shone or whether it rained ! 


EOSA VON TANNENBURG. 


169 


But, if it had rained on that lovely sununer day, 
when the Autumn sun was shining so brilhantly in this 
castle, little Eberhard would not have gone into the 
castle-yard, and Bosa would have lost the opportu- 
nity of rescuing him and, thereby, softening his 
father’s heart ; and too, perhaps, many hundred brave 
men would have lost their lives in battle, leaving wives 
and orphans to shed countless tears. Who would be- 
lieve it could make much difference in the history of a 
life, if this or that viand was wanting from his meal? 
And yet if that dish of mushrooms had not stood on 
Burkhard’s dinner table it would probably not have 
occurred to the Fräulein to offer herself as the servant 
of the warden’s wife. Under God’s guidance the mush- 
rooms were permitted to be the means that averted the 
frightful misfortune which awaited this castle, and 
would have caused the terrible siege, that might have 
resulted in reducing this stately fortress to a heap of 
ashes, instead of which, we have this joyous festival. 
Thus does God show forth his marvellous providence 
and forethought, in the seeming accidents of hfe ; just 
as a finished artist knows how to blend thousands of 
different tones, amongst which are even the harshest of 
discords, into one glorious melodious composition ; 
so the varied events of our fives, sometimes joyous, 
sometimes sorrowful, will form in the Great Master’s 
hands, another grand harmonious whole. If we would 
look at our fives offener from this standpoint, how 
many occasions would present themselves of thanking 
and praising the Lord.” 


170 


BOSA VON TANNENBUBG. 


An approving murmur arose, which ceased, as the 
Duke stood up, and grasping his golden cup, cried, 
“To the welfare of the Emperor.’^ Every one, the 
Abbot, the Knights, the pages, the high-bom matrons, 
and the noble damsels, reverently repeated the toast 
in loud tones and drank. The Duke then replaced the 
golden goblet on the table, and turning to Kosa, said, 
“Now, in this solemn moment, I will deliver the 
Emperor’s message to yourself. My dear young lady. 
His Imperial Majesty has heard of your tender attach- 
ment to your father, with infinite pleasure and ap. 
proval, the more so as it obviates the necessity of our 
engaging in a bloody, civil strife, just after the ter- 
mination of our glorious foreign wars. He, therefore, 
came to the following resolution, the nature of which 
I will at once explain to j^ourself, honored Fräulein, 
and to these worthy guests.” The Duke then beck- 
oned to one of the Knights, who had accompanied him. 

The latter produced a large document, written upon 
parchment, and enve.oped in a covering of crimson, 
velvet. It was further secured by golden cords, from 
which hung the great Imperial seal, encased in an 
ivory casket. 

The Duke delivered the letter to the astonished girl 
saying : “ Most honored lady, as your father has no son, 
Tannenburg as a fief, entailed strictly on the male line, 
would necessarily, at his death, revert with all his other 
possessions to the crown. You, however, having ren- 
dered the Emperor and State more efficient service than 
ten sons, this letter confirms to you and your heirs, the 


BOSA VON TANNENBURG. 


171 


fief of Tannenburg forever. You can now bestow your 
hand upon the noblest amongst Germany’s chivalry, 
and the only condition which will be required of him 
is that he shall sign himself ‘ von Tannenburg' May 
the glorious name ‘ von Tannenbm*g ’ be perpetuated 
to endless generations, and may this noble race long 
live to be a blessing to the earth. 

Edelbert was deeply touched at this extraordinary 
favor on the part of the Emperor, and Kosa, who, 
in her shrinking modesty, could not believe herself 
worthy of such a distinction, could scarcely find words 
to express her gratitude. 

As events afterwards proved, the wish of the Duke 
was accomplished. Many noble Knights became candi- 
dates for Rosa’s hand, the noblest of whom, the Duke’s 
yoimgest son, she chose and lived with in happy wed- 
lock. But this took place several years after. 

The Duke then expressed a wish to see the well and 
the new chapel. Hildegarde, therefore, ordered that 
the well bucket should be lit up by wax candles so as 
to expose to view the abyss below. All betook them- 
selves to the well and praised the beautiful style of 
architecture. As the duke watched the crown of 
glittering light, sinking ever deeper and deeper, he said, 
‘‘In truth, honored lady, I cannot understand how 
you found courage to venture into these awful depths. 
As long as this castle stands, the brave Fraulein Von 
Tannenburg shall be the theme of every tongue. You 
have here, in this well, a more honorable memorial than 
that which falls to the lot of the most renowned heroes.’* 


172 


ROSA VON TANNENBUBO. 


“Oh not SO, most gracious lord,*’ said the girl, 
modestly, “ the well is a memorial of the omnipotence 
and compassion of God. I feel only too assured, as I 
look down this terrible gulf that the courage which 
enabled me to descend was not my own. God inspired 
me with it and therefore to Him belongs the honor 
of the rescue. Let all those who view this well, hence- 
forth, offer their praises and thanks alone to Him, the 
all merciful One from whom cometh every good and 
perfect gift.” 

The Duke then went into the chapel, kneeled 
several minutes at the foot of the altar, and then rising 
said, “As Bosa’s love to her father was the cause 
which transformed this prison into a chapel, this in- 
scription should be placed in golden letters over the 
altar, “ To the memory of fihal affection.*’ But Kosa 
answered blushingly “ Oh, no, that were too much 
honor for a mortal. This altar and chapel should be 
dedicated to Him alone who has brought such mighty 
things to pass.” 

The pious Abbot commended Kosa*s modesty and 
said, “I propose that instead of the inscription which 
this gentle maiden justly dechnes, these words should 
be placed over the altar in large gold letters. ‘ Honor 
thy father and thy mother that thy days may he long 
in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee I ’ ’* 

It was done, and the Divine promise contained in. 
the text was, in Kosa's after life, richly fulfilled. 


THE END. 


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